


Into the Amazon, a Jungle Adventure by Blair Sandburg

by LilyK



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 18:57:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14858393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyK/pseuds/LilyK
Summary: Blair's tale of how he met Jim in the jungles of Peru.





	Into the Amazon, a Jungle Adventure by Blair Sandburg

Being here, in our bed, with Jim beside me, seems like a dream. A dream come true, to be sure. I look down into the sleeping face of my lover, and all I can do is smile. I'm still so amazed, so shocked, so thrilled, so happy that I'm here, right here, in this spot, deep in the Peruvian jungle, where it's hot and muggy and buggy and... Where I belong. With my Sentinel. In our bed. 

It's not a fancy bed, nothing like we'd have back in the States, but it's good enough for me, for us. Jim made the bed a while back. It was kind of a commitment gift to me after one night when I bitched about sleeping on the usual floor pallet yet again since most of the "real beds" (read: cots) in the house were singles. We didn't fit into a single (we tried!), so for months, we (or at least, Jim was) were content with a pallet. I complained. Jim smiled and -- made me forget about sleeping on the floor plenty of times. Of course, my back reminded me often enough so Jim found a suitable tree that fell during a storm, planed the wood by hand, dyed it a deep blue with the native dye that one of the local women made, and gave it to me as a sign of our love. Is that mushy or what? 

It's seen lots of use, that's for sure. I grin at that thought because Jim is a very attentive and exuberant lover. At least now. Oh, don't get me wrong, once we got together, he was always attentive. It was the exuberant part I had to work on. He hadn't had much fun in the sex department, so I had to make sure that he had some new adventures. But I see that I'm getting ahead of myself as I write. I tend to do that sometimes. I need to start at the beginning and put my thoughts down in an orderly fashion. 

Jim encouraged me to keep this journal. Hell, he paid enough for the paper and pens. Here, hundreds of miles from the nearest Office Depot, it's kind of expensive to find things that you'd consider trivial when you live in the city. Even in Lima or Cusco or Iquitos, one can walk into a store and buy paper and pens and computers and Coca-Cola. In our little corner of the Peruvian jungle, everything must be carried in by boat or mule or human, so extras like beer or shampoo or pencils aren't always easy to come by. But Jim cares. He knows how important it is for me to be able to write, so he insists that I continue. And he finds enough crops or skins or woodwork to trade for what he wants me to have. God, but I do love this man. 

Jim stirs in his sleep; his hand reaches out, automatically seeking and finding some part of my person with that invisible Sentinel radar that he possesses. It's just plain weird, that even when he's asleep, he knows where I am. I often wonder how in the hell it works, but I guess it's just part of his genetic makeup. His hand brushes my side before the fingers curl into a loose fist and rest against my ribs. He mumbles something that I don't understand before he sighs with what can only be described as contentment, and settles back into a deep sleep. My smile widens and I sigh with satisfaction myself. I close my notebook and turn out the lantern. 

No, there's no electricity, but we bought several newer lanterns a while back on one of our trips to trade for goods over in Iquitos. Before these, we used kerosene burning lanterns, which are harder to maintain and a hell of a lot more dangerous. These new ones are pretty darned cool, if I do say so myself. They are charged either by solar power or they have this handle that you insert in the side slot and crank away. We have a radio that does that also. During the day, there's plenty of sun to charge up the internal batteries, and if all else fails, you just crank. Five minutes of cranking is good for twenty minutes of light. We talked about getting a generator and a small fridge to keep stuff cold, but for some reason, it seemed too -- civilized. We have diesel for the boats, and a generator isn't out of reach, but we like the way things are. So for now, no generator. 

I snuggle down into the bed, but I'm really not sleepy. I feel the need to -- contemplate for a while. To get my thoughts in order so that when I do write them down, they'll at least be coherent. I think about Jim and me, and how I got here and how things work out sometimes. How the planets were in alignment and the stars were in the proper places in the heavens when Jim -- and Simon -- found me. Let's not forget Simon, as if he'd ever let me. Simon of the bellowing voice, the voice that sends the younger children scurrying away, but makes all but the shyest natives smile into their hands. Simon of the gentle nature -- as long as things are going his way, that is, and nothing is threatening those he loves. 

I get comfortable and lace my fingers together behind my head, resting my head against my palms. And I remember...

\--------------------------------

I never saw it coming. The attack. One minute we're riding along on a fairly good dirt road on the way to a dig, the next minute, the world crashed, and were under fire. There were eight of us. My mentor, Dr. Eli Stoddard, the world's greatest living anthropologist, had invited me along for a year's excavation to the upper Amazon. Since my dissertation was going nowhere fast -- Do you know how hard it is to find a Sentinel in Cascade, Washington? -- I figured, what the hell, and said yes. So Eli and two other students, both Master's candidates, me and four of the local men Eli knew and hired regularly when he was in the country, gathered our gear on two relatively decent jeeps and headed inland along the Amazon. 

I never heard a thing and even now, when I think about it, I realize I didn't see anything either. It's what I felt that alerted me to the fact that things weren't quite right. Blinding, searing pain. I remember gasping and holding my breath, my hand immediately flying to my upper arm. I looked down at my hand where my fingers were clasped around my arm and saw red. The blood flowed over my closed fingers and dripped down my arm. Then all hell broke loose. 

The jeep ran off the road and I was tossed out onto the bank. Luckily, the weeds and brush were fairly thick and my fall was cushioned somewhat, but I tumbled head over heels at least two or three times before I came to a crashing halt against the base of a small tree. The pain in my arm spiked, and I felt sick from the intensity of it. I lay very still, hoping that the discomfort would stop, but in reality, I didn't know that it had just barely started. 

Slowly, my brain started to function and I heard sounds. Screams. Shouts. Cries. Other things that at first, I couldn't place, but slowly I realized that it was the sound of people dying. I blinked slowly and forced myself to a sitting position. I swear, I couldn't make sense of the scene playing out before my eyes. The jeeps were wrecked beyond recognition. One was on fire, and the flames licked at the undercarriage that was now exposed to the sky. The other was on its side, the wheels still spinning around, letting me know that it had been only a few minutes since this whole thing had started. 

I rubbed my eyes, forgetting about the blood on my fingers. I spread the blood, along with the dirt from my hands, across my face and into my nose and eyes. My eyes teared and my nose started to itch, but I ignored the sensations when I saw... Even now it's so hard to think about. The scene is so fresh in my mind that it could have happened yesterday instead of years ago. I force myself to replay the scene again, just so I'll never forget. Eli deserves to be remembered... 

A dark haired man with a large machete in one hand and a rifle slung across his back walked among the ruined caravan. Two men followed him; they carried their rifles in their hands, at the ready. Two of the four local men were already dead, their bodies spread along the road. The two students and the remaining natives were not in sight. I saw Eli lying in the dirt almost in the center of the road. I remember realizing that he was still alive; I could see the slight rise and fall of his chest, and I saw him twitch in pain. When the big stranger approached Eli, I heard his voice clearly. In Spanish, he let his companion know that Eli was "too old to bring a good price." Without another word, the second man put the rifle to Eli's forehead and pulled the trigger. 

Somehow, I found my voice. Staggering to my feet, I stumbled toward my friend's body, screaming in protest. It wasn't any specific thing that I cried out, but a wounded scream full of anger. The man in charge looked directly at me. His gaze swept down my body. I remembered the cold, calculating look in his eyes later, much later, but then, I saw only my dead friend and I felt only fury. The three men just stood there, watching me careen toward them, my injured arm a temporary distant memory. I fell to my knees beside Eli, and my hands reached out, hovering over his lifeless body. I raised my face and cursed the leader, who said something. I didn't register what, but afterward, I guessed he had given an order to one of his men to shut me up, because before I could take my next breath, I felt a brief spike of incredible pain on the back of my head before the world went black. 

\------------------------------- 

I woke with a start. That was my first mistake. My body jerked awake, also waking the pain in my head and the throb in my arm. Furthermore, my ankles and wrists weren't feeling very well either, no doubt due to the ropes binding them. The knots were tight; so tight that my feet and hands were numb from lack of circulation. My captors saw me wake and one of them came over, nudging my legs with the toe of his ratty boot. I tried to roll away, but the world spun in front of my eyes and my stomach revolted at the ride. I heaved several times before I threw up what little I had in my stomach. 

I recognized the symptoms immediately. Not only was I trussed up, I had a concussion, and for the icing on the cake, I had a bullet hole in my arm that hurt like hell. After I managed to stop retching, I gave a tentative glance at my arm. I had to swallow hard to keep from heaving again. My arm was caked with dried blood and dirt. When I tried to turn my head to further examine the wound, the pain spiked in the damaged muscle and more blood started to seep out from under the dried gunk. I lay back and shuddered, trying to relax my body to alleviate the pain while I took stock of my situation. 

The man who had come over to see if I was still alive had wandered away. He was hunkered down next to a small fire, and I watched as he and one of the other of my captors scooped something from a pot on the coals into battered metal bowls. They sat back on their haunches and ate quickly. Further perusal of the camp found the supposed leader reclining against a small tree on the other side of the campsite, smoking a short, fat cigar. When I gazed at him, he glared in response before his face broke into a smile. It wasn't friendly or kind, but cold and cruel. I felt myself break into a sweat in spite of the humid air and I forced myself to look away. 

Glancing around, I saw the two students on the other side of the fire. Both were still alive, thankfully, and similarly tied as I, but other than looking dirty and unhappy, they seemed relatively unharmed. I'd just met the two men the day before yesterday. Aaron Keller, a 21 year old anthro student from Vanderbilt, and Mick Beecher, also 21, from Penn State. I remember Mick telling me he'd signed on for this expedition because he hadn't decided yet if anthropology or archaeology was the field for him, and he wanted to see what it was like. Wonder what he thought now, the poor guy. 

I tried to catch their eyes, but both men remained very still, heads down. I wondered what sort of cruelty our captors had inflicted on them that I hadn't seen while I had been unconscious. I shifted, trying to move into a more comfortable position, but again, it was not a smart thing to do. Everything started to spin and I had to breathe heavily through my nose to keep myself from starting another episode of dry heaves. I turned to my good side and curled into as tight a ball as I could and thankfully, I fell asleep. Passed out was probably what happened now that I think about it, but at the time, I didn't care. At least while I was unconscious, I wasn't aware of the pain. 

\---------------------------

Morning was a horrendous affair. I was awakened by a kick to my ribs, and I cried out, jerking painfully. My entire body was one huge throb, and my head pounded. I felt flushed and hot. One of the men stood over me with a tin cup in his hand. He knelt down and before I could move, he'd grabbed my chin, forcing my mouth open. He poured what turned out to be water down my throat so quickly that I started to choke. I sputtered water from my mouth and it landed on the man's cheeks and chin. Before I could catch my breath, he backhanded me across the face. The leader called out and the man turned and swore at his companion. Still, in spite of his obvious disgust with the leader's order, he dragged me upright with one hand and held the cup at my mouth, allowing me to drink at my own pace. I would have tried to hold the cup myself, but my arm hurt so badly, the thought of raising my tied hands up even that high made me shudder. 

I managed to drink most of the water before his patience ended. He pulled the cup away and poured the remainder on top of my head. I suppose he thought he was being -- considerate, letting a bit of the water trickle down my dirty face, and it did feel good having that moisture on my skin. I cleared my throat and carefully asked for my hands to be untied. The man ignored my request and rose, hefting his gun more securely on his back. He and his companions broke camp swiftly, and made ready to leave. 

The leader stalked over to me and pulled his knife. With the long blade clenched in his hand, he glared down at me. I closed my eyes, sure that he was going to slit my throat, but instead, I felt the bonds at my feet slip away. My eyes flew open. He grabbed the front of my shirt and yanked me upright. My legs were fast asleep, so the second he released me, I crumpled to the ground. A sharp kick in the thigh brought tears to my eyes. He uttered the harsh command to walk once again, and this time his hand grasped my hair. When he hauled me back to my feet, I cried out and he laughed, calling me a whining girl. He pushed me away and I staggered forward a few feet and forced myself to remain upright. When I lifted my head and tilted my chin in defiance, he laughed coldly and shoved me with the butt of his rifle. 

We walked only a few hundred yards to the bank of the Amazon, where an old wooden boat was moored. It looked like a reject from the old movie, The African Queen. I was taken aboard and shoved down onto the deck, where another piece of rope was threaded around the rope that was wound around my hands and my arms were yanked over my head and they were securely tied to the railing. I leaned against the old wood and closed my eyes. 

The boat jerked and swayed on its moorings when the other men came aboard. The students were also forced down onto the deck and likewise tied to the deck railing to ensure that nobody tried to make an escape. One of the students started to speak, but he was immediately and harshly slapped across the mouth, and ordered to be silent. We all exchanged defeated glances, but I did manage to nod encouragingly to the men. Even that small exchange was observed and was met with swift retribution. My cheek stung from the open slap, but in spite of the pain, I was glad it wasn't a closed fist. That sort of a blow would have definitely sent me spiraling into unconsciousness once again, and I wanted to remain as awake and alert as possible so that I could have some prayer of ascertaining where we were and where we were going. I would attempt to escape, there was no doubt of that. Whatever fate these men had in their plans for the other two captives and me, I was sure it was going to be very unpleasant. I knew that I would attempt escape or die trying. Better dead than enslaved, I told myself, and as one of the men started the rusty motor and another pushed away from the dock, I settled to wait for the first opportunity to free myself and the students. 

\----------------------------

Things didn't work out as well as I'd hoped. Yes, I still had hope, but it was rapidly dwindling. I became sicker as the hours passed by. Unpleasant insects started to irritate my bullet wound. Without the ability to at least try and wash it off and bind it up, the bugs had no barriers in their way to their feast. I tried several times to blow them away, and jiggled my arm to dislodge them, but every movement was wrought with pain. After a while, as the time passed, I became less aware of their presence. My head pounded and my body shook. I could feel the sweat oozing from my pores and in spite of the temperature, which I guessed hovered in the low nineties, I was freezing cold. 

I remember slumping over as far as the ropes would allow, and I know I either slept or passed out off and on for an indeterminate period of time. In the back of my fevered mind, I heard voices, and several times I know I was dragged upright, but my memories about what was going on are vague, at best. I distinctly remember waking during the bright afternoon light and when I glanced over at where Mick and Aaron had been tied, they were gone. That's when I guessed that the voices I'd heard and the times I had been kicked awake were the times when we were displayed for sale, and that Mick and Aaron had been sold off to the highest bidder. Apparently, so far, nobody wanted me. 

\--------------------------------

I figure it was during the third day since my capture when one of the men, the one I considered the leader of the horrible band, saw me awake and stalked over, holding a cup of water. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten, but food was the last thing I wanted anyway. I blinked stupidly up at the dirty, nasty man. He knelt down and held the cup for me. I managed to swallow the tepid water with my teeth chattering against the metal rim. He turned his head and in Spanish, he ordered the man steering the boat to moor at the next landing. The men argued for several minutes about whether or not it was wise to land at this particular spot. I didn't hear anything about why it was possibly a bad idea, but the leader snorted, and called them both superstitious idiots. I guess something that frightened the two men must be connected to this particular section of the river or the jungle. 

The leader rose and after glancing down at me with a look of disgust, spat out that he needed to sell the goods quickly (I was "the goods", I realized with barely a bit of surprise) before "it" died. Then he turned his irritation as seeing whatever profits he had envisioned onto me and dealt a quick blow to my face. My head smacked back against the wood of the railing. Honestly, I don't even remember any pain, only the blessed release of oblivion. 

\------------------------ 

I woke a short time later, much to my dismay. With a sigh, I slowly wiggled myself to a sitting position and glanced around. The boat was moored at a rather well-built dock. Two good-size tidy launches were also tied to the dock. I glanced around, considering my options at the present time. Jumping overboard and drowning seemed like a good decision, and I would have done it if I had the chance, but the men were taking no chances that I would try to escape, even in spite of my poor condition. They never took their eyes from me. 

The lead asshole stalked over to me and cut the rope holding me to the railing. He dragged me to my feet and across the deck. I had almost no strength but I felt that I needed to conserve whatever I had left to use on my escape attempt. I made myself remain limp in his hands while he, a fairly large man, easily dragged me along. Hoisting me up, he proceeded to toss me over the railing and onto the wooden deck. I landed with a hard thump; my arm screamed in protest and the pain made me gag. I didn't have a chance to gather my wits about me and run before he jumped the short deck railing, grabbed my shirt and yanked me to a to a sitting position. At least he didn't try to make me stand because I knew I would have immediately fallen flat on my face. 

Yelling at one of his cohorts, he waited until the man brought the bucket of water that he had asked for. He dumped the entire bucket over my head, wiping the dirt and grime off my face with an equally dirty rag that he'd pulled from his pocket. Demanding another bucket, he continued his task, intending, I'm sure, to try and make me more presentable. If I had had enough strength, I would have laughed, wondering just how badly I must look if my kidnapper felt it necessary to attempt to clean me up. 

My hair was a tangled mess, hanging in wet, dirty strings across my eyes and down my back. It had been tied back a lifetime ago, when the group had first been attacked, but the tie was long gone by now. My clothes, a pair of heavy-duty blue jeans and a short-sleeved denim shirt, were ruined almost beyond recognition. Now, not only were they dirty and torn, they were wet also. My heavy hiking boots hadn't been removed from my feet for days and in the humid conditions of the Amazon, I could bet that mold and fungus was growing between my toes big time. I managed to glance at my arm, but the sleeve of my shirt was so encrusted with blood and dirt that I couldn't see the wound. The water had washed away the worst of the dirt, but still, it had little affect on the firmly embedded crud and dried blood. I must have been a sight, sitting on my butt, dripping wet, filthy and smelly. 

One of the men let out a shout and they stood in a loose circle around me. I don't know what made me raise my head, but I did and when I did, I saw him. He walked toward the dock, a rifle held loosely in his hands, and a dangerous-looking machete attached to his belt. He was well-built, tanned deeply, and dressed almost like someone who was in the military. His face looked like it was chiseled from a block of creamy brown granite. His broad chest was bare except for a leather strap holding rounds of ammunition from shoulder to belt. I could see the muscles bulging on his chest, arms and thighs. He had a navy blue bandanna wrapped around his head and the way he walked clearly showed my captors that he was not a man to trifle with. 

I remember exactly what happened next. Our eyes locked; he had the iciest blue eyes of anyone I'd ever seen. I was mesmerized, unable to look away. He walked closer and stopped at the end of the dock, about a dozen feet away. His gaze swept over me before he looked into my eyes yet again. I felt a sudden chill, and at the time, it was a chill of fear. There was nothing warm or friendly in those eyes; they were cold and distant. My heart sank. The man didn't look like a native Peruvian at all, but like a North American or a European, and for a brief moment, I felt a stab of hope that because of our possible shared heredity, he would help me, but from the set of his jaw and the tilt of his head, I felt a sudden wash of hopelessness. If this man bought me, I knew I was doomed. Still, some small part of me wanted to live, to survive, so I mustered up enough strength to whisper, "Please help-"

The pain was swift and sudden. One of my captors latched onto my hair and pulled harshly. I cried out, arching my back before sinking back onto the deck. He released me and I crumpled into a heap, determined not to cry. I bit my lip fiercely and waited for the usual kick to the ribs or thigh, but all that came was the sound of loud voices. I didn't move, but I did open my eyes to see a dance of boots and shoes. I saw my captors' ratty, old shoes, I saw the military boots of the newly arrived man, and I saw a pair of feet clad in homemade sandals. At the time it didn't register that there was another person at the scene, but at the time, I really didn't have the mental capacity to even register the arrival of another person. I was so tired and sick, that all I could do was whimper and close my eyes. 

Suddenly, I was lifted from the deck. I stiffened my body briefly and tried to struggle, but the arms into which I was settled held me firmly. My eyes flew open and I looked into a face. It was large and black and quite stern. I moaned and tried to muster enough strength to fight, but instead, I must have felt like a small child in the arms of this huge stranger because his grip didn't lessen one iota. It was embarrassing when I remembered later, but I couldn't help myself. My body went limp, and I'm sure it wasn't me making those hopeless sounds. My neck seemed to have no bones in it. My head was too heavy to hold up any longer, so it lolled back and I blinked a few times, looking at the world sideways. I saw the men on the dock as I was carried away. The last thing I remember before I passed out yet again was my stern new owner passing over a handful of money to my former captors. 

\-----------------------

When I felt myself start to wake (yet again!), I know I let out a sob. You know the feeling, when your brain slowly returns to consciousness, but when you just don't want to deal with whatever is waiting for you back in the real world. When you just want blackness and oblivion and no pain. But that apparently wasn't my luck. I didn't mean to let out another sob, but I was helpless to stop it. And when I felt a few errant tears run down my face, I didn't have the wherewithal to stop them either. Again, I was embarrassed. Nothing like looking like a wuss in front of my new owner, who more than likely was anxious for his property to get to work -- or worse, to use for some other more unpleasant purpose. I still had some shred of pride left, I knew. I did have enough presence of mind to wonder what punishment awaited me for my show of weakness and lack of strength. 

Fighting the return to the light, I knew that I had never felt so hopeless in my life. Instead of happily meeting my maker or happily cavorting in the afterlife, or even happily being reincarnated, I knew I was having the unhappy bad luck of waking yet again, and I had absolutely no desire to see what awaited me in the functioning world. My mind rebelled, and I tried refusing to regain consciousness, but in spite of my struggle, my body had other ideas. 

That's when I heard the voice... 

"Settle down, Chief." 

A cool cloth was passed over my forehead and down my cheeks, wiping away the tears. There was a firm but gentle pressure against my sternum, and it took me a few moments to realize that it was a large, warm hand gently holding me still. The hand moved away after giving my chest a light pat. Then I heard the sounds of water trickling before the touch of the cloth returned, brushing lightly down my chest and stomach. The sounds repeated and the cloth returned to wipe my genitals, thighs, legs and feet. I must have let out some small sound and it must have sounded pretty pathetic, because the voice returned. 

"You're safe. It's okay. Sleep." 

I so wanted to see the face that went with the kind voice, but when I tried to open my eyes, they refused my simple command. I did feel a light covering settle over my body and the last thing I remember before I fell asleep was the wet cloth traveling down my arms and hands, cool and comforting... 

\------------------------- 

"You're finally awake." 

The same voice, I knew. I blinked the sleep from my eyes and looked into the face of my -- owner. The same blue eyes, but in the semi-darkened room, I couldn't quite see the emotions behind them. I wondered if they were still as cold and empty as they were at the dock. Unable to tell and feeling very disconcerted, I pulled my gaze away, sighing and glancing around. Thankfully, I wasn't tied up or uncomfortable or -- in a cage; I was resting on a cot in a plain whitewashed room. The walls were some sort of aromatic wood, and the bed was soft and clean. And I was very clean, thank God. I avoided meeting the eyes of my- What did one call the person who purchased your kidnapped ass? 

"What's your name, Chief?" he asked. 

"Whatever," I whispered. 

"What?" 

I could hear the surprise in his voice so I swallowed hard and found my courage. In defiance, I glared at him, my eyes meeting his. They were the same ones; clear and blue and now I could see them more clearly... To my surprise, they weren't cold and hard, but curious and interested. Feeling a tiny ray of hope, I cleared my throat and asked, "May I have some water?" 

While the man poured water into a cup, I tried to sit up. All I managed to do was flop ungracefully about on the bed, my arms and legs as loose as an under-stuffed rag doll. 

"Let me help." He slipped a hand behind my head and raised it up so that I could drink. Still, I managed to dribble water out of the sides of my mouth and down my neck, dampening the sheet under me. 

"Sorry," I muttered when he took a dry rag and wiped up the water from my skin. 

"You've been very sick." When I didn't respond, he explained, "Your arm was badly infected, not to mention the rest of your body was covered in insect bites, bruises and cuts. You're still suffering from the effects of all of that, plus a concussion, and you were unconscious with a fever that spiked 105 twice. Considering you almost died on me, I don't think a bit of spilled water is something to apologize for."

I wondered briefly how he could possibly know that I had suffered a concussion or what my temperature had been, and I realized that because he seemed to have saved my life, I should have been feeling grateful. I should have at least thanked the man, but I felt petulant and uneasy. "Am I your slave?" He raised a questioning eyebrow. I rubbed my hand across my eyes and sighed. "I saw you give those -- men money. Before I passed out... Down at the river." 

The man grabbed a wooden chair and brought it close to the side of the bed. He saw down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze was direct when he said, "My name is Jim Ellison, and you're not anybody's slave. Yeah, you did see me hand money over to those assholes. And once Simon had you safely away, what you didn't see was..." Jim shifted and rubbed his hands together. "I can tell you that they won't be selling any more people into slavery... ever." 

My eyes grew wide and my hand covered my mouth. "Oh! You did that for me?"

Jim smiled. "Actually, Chief, let's just say I did it for the -- good of the tribe." 

Now it was my turn to raise a questioning eyebrow. That was a familiar term to me. In my study of Sentinels, the good of the tribe is one of the tenants of Sentinel behavior, but before I could ask about the statement, I felt myself yawn and my eyes started to droop. I struggled to stay awake; I had a thousand questions, like where were Mick and Aaron? When could I go home? And of course, where was I anyway? My body didn't listen, though, and I felt myself slipping away. 

"Sleep, Chief. When you wake, we need to get some food down you. Need to regain your strength." 

I nodded, yawning again. Through droopy eyes, I glanced up at my rescuer. "Jim?" 

"Chief?" 

"Thanks." Jim nodded in response and turned to leave. I closed my eyes and right before I drifted off, I whispered, "My name is Blair Sandburg." 

\------------------------------------ 

"I can't eat any more, Jim," I whined. 

He smiled and moved the tray from my legs where the remains of a sick-bed dinner lay scattered. I'd managed to drink most of the broth, as well as eat some of the pureed fruit, but as for the rest, I was too tired right now. "We'll try again in a few hours." 

I lay back and eyed Jim carefully. He was extremely attentive, something I'm sure I was unfairly looking at with suspicion. I'd only met the man twelve hours ago and he was waiting on me like he'd known me all of our lives. "Jim...?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Is there any chance at all?" 

"I really don't know. I can't make any promises about finding your friends, but I can promise that Simon and I will start looking as soon as it's safe to leave." 

"Safe?" I asked with a tinge of fear in my voice. I hated hearing it but after the past bad days, my kidnapping and almost dying thousands of miles from home, I felt I had the right to be a bit afraid. 

Jim set the tray down and came over to the bedside. He sat on the edge and I saw his hand reach out. I watched the hand with fascination, wondering if he was going to actually touch me, and wondering again why it would be -- okay if he did. I mean, it was obvious he'd touched me plenty while I was unconscious, but this was different. Now I was awake, touching, especially men touching men, wasn't something one did lightly with complete strangers. He must have seen me watching his hand because he immediately clasped his hands together and put them on his lap. 

"Listen, Chief, nobody within fifty miles of this place will dare trespass, let alone harm anybody under my protection. Those men who kidnapped you and your friends weren't locals; they didn't know who we were any more than we knew them. They were just out for a fast buck." Jim was very serious when he explained, "I wasn't worried about your safety as far as anyone harming you, but you've been very sick. I'm worried about how you're doing and when I'd be able to..." Jim's gaze slid away and he shifted uncomfortably. Rising abruptly, he said gruffly, "Sleep, Sandburg." 

"Jim?" 

Without any further explanation, he left. I felt -- dismissed and a bit irritated at the dismissal. What was going on with Jim anyway? What was he going to say that suddenly made him so disquieted? When he'd be able to -- what? Be able to travel? Be able to find the students? Be able to... What? I lay back and considered other possibilities. My mind hummed along. At least my brain was functioning, I mused. My body still demanded more sleep, and I knew better than try to fight it. I turned to my side and curled up, relaxing and sighing with relief. I was going to live, and what was more, I'd met someone who was quite interesting. I hadn't had a chance to meet Jim's friend, Simon, yet, since I had been told he was off on a hunting expedition, but he was expected back in the next day or so. I looked forward to meeting the man that Jim called "my best friend." Jim acted like a man who didn't make friends easily, so Simon must be a pretty good guy. 

I closed my eyes and drifted along, lazily thinking about what Jim had said. "When I'd be able to...", then his voice had faded away. I thought about the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes. And then I thought about what he could have said. When the idea slammed into me, I knew without a doubt that I must still be suffering from the after effects of my recent fever. There is no way that somebody big and tough and strong like Jim appeared to be would have said what it felt like he wanted to say. "When I'd be able... to tolerate being parted from you." With a quiet snicker at my own idiocy, I fell asleep. 

\------------------------

"Up and at 'em, Sandburg." 

A hand shook my shoulder gently. I opened by eyes and turned to my back, carefully stretching. "Hey, Jim." 

"Chief." Jim gave me a quick smile. "Dinner's ready." 

"Dinner?" 

"Yeah. Dinner. It's a meal usually eaten later in the day. Here we eat dinner after sundown when it's cooler." 

Snickering at Jim's bit of light-hearted sarcasm, I smiled. "Yeah, yeah. I remember dinner, although it's been a while since I remember actually eating anything substantial."

"We'll remedy that right away. You've been asleep for twelve hours and I think it's time we got you up and around. How do you feel?"

I gave myself a quick once over before I said, "Pretty good. Still a little weak. My arm aches a bit, but nothing much. I am kind of hungry." 

"Good. Eliini's fixed supper and it's waiting out on the veranda-"

"Veranda?" I asked, rising with Jim's hand firmly under my elbow. "Sounds inviting." When the sheet slipped away, I glanced down and blushed, remembering I was wearing absolutely nothing. "Ah, Jim..." 

"Oh, right." He shrugged. "It was easier keeping you clean. No sense in having to wash sickbed clothes all day long. Skin is easier. Here you go, Chief. I had one of the women find you something that should fit. We don't have many Wal-Marts around here." Jim held out a pair of navy blue cotton drawstring pants and a white shirt that was made of the same light-weight material. "I'm sure we can find you something else, but most of the clothes are made locally after I barter for cloth. Sometimes I can find jeans and t-shirts when I go down river to one of the bigger villages. But these will have to do for now. Oh, and we don't set much store in underwear this far from civilization." 

I smiled, still a bit embarrassed. I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to slip the pants over my feet. 

"Let me." 

"I'm okay, Jim." 

Jim hunkered down in front of me and our eyes met. "I know." 

Still, he smiled so I held out the pants and a foot. Jim helped me into them but I managed to pull the shirt over my head myself. 

"Better wear these sandals, Sandburg. Occasionally, we see the odd poisonous bug or spider or some other crawling things running around. No sense risking you stepping on something that might land your ass back in that bed." 

"Who's Eliini?" I asked while I slipped into the shoes. 

"She's Simon's wife. She's the general housekeeper around here, not to mention the boss of us all. Speaking of which, we'd better get moving. She'll be quite unhappy if we let dinner go bad, and she wants to clean this room." 

"Clean the room? Jim, this room is about the cleanest place I've ever seen," I said as I rose, feeling for my sea legs. I must have swayed a bit because Jim latched a hand under my elbow and guided me out of the room, down the hall, across the open living area and out onto the wide porch. 

With a chuckle, Jim led me to a chair by the dining table. "I learned years ago not to argue with Eliini. If she wants to clean, I just get out of the way." 

I smiled at Jim before glancing around. "It's nice here." 

The canopy of huge, leafy trees growing around the house kept the worse of the daily sun's rays from filtering through. While it wasn't what a cold-climate living creature like me, from the State of Washington, domain of perpetual rain, snow and cold, considered cool, it was cool in a jungle sort of way, especially since the sun was setting. I'm sure it was about 80 or so, but it felt good. Warm and humid, with the sweet fragrance of jungle plants and herbs filling the air. 

"River is about two hundred feet in front of you," Jim offered. 

I saw the path at the edge of the yard where Jim had pointed. When I looked closely between some of the trees, I could see the Amazon flowing lazily, the last rays of sunlight glinting off the brown water. One edge of the boat dock was visible, along with a small portion of one of the boats I'd seen moored that first day. In a few minutes, darkness would settle, and the night jungle life would awake. 

The veranda ran the length of the wooden house, and it was furnished with wooden benches, the table at which I sat, along with a half a dozen chairs scattered here and there. There were two hammocks attached to the ceiling, offering a place to lounge. The wide roof protected anyone sitting on the porch from the daytime sunlight, and with the small breeze that blew, it was very pleasant. Hanging from the edge of the porch roof were small clusters of hollow bamboo tubes that clinked together in the breeze, adding music to the night air. 

I sat back and closed my eyes, and allowed myself the pleasure of enjoying being alive. After a few moments, I opened my eyes, sat up and breathed deeply, also enjoying the clean air. "Did you know that on a single acre of Amazon rain forest there are hundreds of different kinds of trees, flowers, and herbs? Scientists have counted more than seven hundred types of plant life on an acre of land." 

Jim nodded. "Eat first. Lecture after dinner." 

"Oh, right. Thanks." I looked down at the plate that Jim put before me. "Jim, man, there's enough food here for ten people."

"Eat what you want, Sandburg, but if you don't try everything, Eliini might be insulted. She's waited days for you to be well enough to feed. Besides, you need meat on your bones." 

I glanced at Jim, raising an eyebrow. He sounded just like my mother. No, make that worse than my mother. "I'm eating, Jim," I quipped, tasting a spoonful of what looked like some sort of mashed vegetable casserole. "Hmmm. Good," I said with a nod. 

Jim nodded in agreement with my assessment. "It's one of Eliini's best. Squash, yams, a bit of sugar and ground nuts. Try the fish." 

I sampled a small piece of the white flaky fish. "Wow. Really good. I like it." 

Jim pushed another plate closer. "Have some fruit."

"Jim, please!" I said with a laugh. "I'm stuffed already."

"You didn't eat enough to satisfy a baby toucan." 

"One piece of avocado. That's it or I won't be able to move." I sipped from the tumbler of water beside my plate and nibbled a slice of avocado. 

"At least you're eating," Jim groused before he returned to his own plate, helping himself to another piece of the baked fish, along with a small mountain of vegetables and fruit. 

I watched Jim for a few more minutes before I finally asked, "Can we talk?" 

"Sure, Sandburg." Jim wiped his mouth on a small square of cloth before he leaned back in his chair. "I'm sure you have a hundred questions buzzing in that head of yours." 

"Actually, I have thousands." 

Jim laughed. "So what do you want to know?" 

"Have you heard anything about Mick and Aaron?" 

Shaking his head, he told me, "I've sent word to several of the local villages about the students, and they'll pass along the message that I want any and all news about them." 

"But when are we going to look for them?" 

"I'll do what I can to help you find them, but," he pointed a finger at me, "no expeditions until you're one hundred percent." 

"But, Jim!" 

Holding up his hand, he added, "The Chopec who live in the area are -- friendly to me. They'll do what they can until we can do something more. I've notified all my men so that while they're out hunting, they'll keep an eye out for anything that will indicate who's got them. If you remember anything about where on the river you were when you last saw them, that would help. We're not giving up, Sandburg, but you're in no condition to hike through the jungle right now." 

I saw the sense of Jim's logic. I didn't like it, but I understood it. I sighed but rather than protest unnecessarily and risk rising Jim's ire after all of his help, I said, "Thanks, man. I really appreciate everything you've done for me." 

Jim gave me a curt "you're welcome" nod. "Don't get your hopes up. The jungle is a huge, dangerous place. They could be hundreds of miles from here by now, or..." he sighed, "dead." 

I ducked my head before I raised it up and said, "Yeah, I know, but I have to at least try. I'm an anthropologist, Jim. I'm been in the jungle before. Hell, I've been in a lot of pretty primitive places, and I think I'm good at surviving. I understand the risks." 

Jim examined my face for a long minute before he gave me a curt nod. "We'll try. That's all we can do. So you're an anthropologist? What's your field?" 

I gave a snort. "Right now, not much of anything." 

"Why's that?" 

With a shrug, I explained, "I chose a subject for my dissertation that was too obscure." I thought about explaining more but right now, I was burning with curiosity about Jim and tales about my own life seemed secondary. 

Jim sipped from his drink, quiet and observant. When I looked at him, my inquisitiveness took over. He was smart, intelligent, and handsome. He was strong and capable. I wanted to sound somewhat intelligent myself when I asked him what I was dying of curiosity over, but instead of sounding like an educated person, I blurted out, "Who are you and why are you hiding in the jungle?" 

For a second, his eyes clouded over before he looked me over carefully. I saw his nostrils flare and for a moment, I felt as if I was being... inspected. Minutely inspected. I swallowed hard under the intense scrutiny, and started to apologize for my obvious blunder, but Jim finally gave a small smile. 

"It's not a very interesting story, Sandburg, but if you want to hear it, I can tell it." I shifted in my chair, and I must have looked uncomfortable because Jim jumped up and retrieved a small footstool that sat beside the door. "Prop your feet up on this. Relax." Then he gave me this sidelong glance and said, "I'm not hiding out, Sherlock." 

"Thanks, Jim. Listen. That was rude. I'm sorry. You're..." 

"I'm what?" he asked when I paused. 

"You're very nice." 

Jim snorted with amusement. "I know a bunch of people who would disagree with you on that one."

I laughed and yawned at the same time. "Darn it anyway." 

"What's the matter?" 

"Nothing." I sighed and rubbed my eyes. 

"You are a stubborn one, aren't you?" I just glared, making Jim chuckle. "It's night. Your internal clock is telling you it's time to sleep, not to mention how sick you were only a day or so ago. So let's get you into bed." 

"Jim, I do not need you to tuck me in!" 

Jim laughed. "Want me to read you a bedtime story, Sandburg?" I glared again, asking Jim laugh. "Is that your most intimidating glare? You'll have to work on it a lot more to have much of an affect on people around here." 

Knowing that the famous Sandburg glare wasn't very famous here, I grinned and shrugged. "I need to visit the bathroom first." 

"Come on. It's late for us jungle folk. We sleep during the night and work during the day. I have to be up at sunrise, and after sitting up with you for four nights while you were sick, I could use a good night's sleep." 

It wasn't until I was comfortably settled on my cot and listening to the sounds of the jungle insects sing outside of my window that I remembered Jim hadn't told me a thing about himself. Tomorrow, I vowed. I'd hear the story tomorrow. 

\--------------------------------

It was still dark outside when I heard voices. I stirred and turned to my back, blinking in the dark, hovering on the precipice between wakefulness and sleep. I was still not quite awake when I heard footsteps outside my door. A large figure stood in the doorway, his form backlit by a lamp burning further down the hallway. For a moment, in the diffused light, the figure looked frightening. My heart thumped with fear and I sucked in a quick breath. 

"Chief, it's me." 

I recognized Jim's voice immediately and huffed out the breath I'd been holding. I heard Jim's footsteps cross the room and stop beside the bed. Blinking blindly, I muttered, "Geez, Jim. You almost gave me a heart attack! Warn a guy when you're going to lurk around, will you? 

Jim gave a small snort of amusement. "Sorry. I heard you..."

He paused but when he didn't continue, I asked, "Heard me? Was I talking in my sleep or what?" Wishing I could see his face, I added, "I can't see a thing. Turn on the light, please." 

I heard him chuckle at my suggestion. "Right," he said with the touch of sarcasm that I was quickly becoming familiar with, "I'll just hit the light switch. Hang on." I heard his footsteps again, crossing the room and going down the hall. He returned a moment later with a bright camp light. 

"Much better!" I said with a grin, shifting up to lean back against the wall behind the bed. "So you were saying..." I prompted. 

"Nothing. I'm going to head out. How about we have lunch during the afternoon siesta?" 

"Siesta?" I echoed, knowing I must have sounded like a dork for sure. Like I couldn't form a coherent thought to save my life. Thankfully, Jim was either too polite or unconcerned about my lack of coherency, because he just smiled down at me. 

"Yeah. About noon, we break for a few hours. It's too hot to work so everybody heads back for a break. Then we'll go back to work about three until just before sundown. I'll catch up with you for lunch. It's early, so you go back to sleep. You need your rest." 

"Yes, mom." 

"Smart ass," he said teasingly. 

I had the sudden urge to stick out my tongue, causing him to laugh. I liked Jim's laugh and I smiled in return, admiring the way he looked in the light of the lantern. He looked -- handsome standing there, dressed in lightweight work clothes: khaki pants and a white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The shirt was thin and I could see the strength of his chest muscles through the material. He was a desirable man and I felt my blood quicken at the sight. I have to say, I was somewhat surprised when Jim seemed to sense my spike of arousal. He shifted and his eyes sought out mine, holding my gaze with his curious one. His nostrils flared and when a slow, sensual smile crossed his lips; I knew without a doubt that he was somehow tuned into my attraction. He didn't say anything, but I could tell by the way he looked at me that he just "knew". How I didn't have a clue, but before I could question him, he said, "I'm off to work. See you for the midday meal." Then he was gone. 

\--------------------------------------

I couldn't believe I almost slept clear through lunch! I'd never slept for such long stretches in my life, and I was more than irritated at myself when Eliini came into my room and gently shook my shoulder. 

"Enqueri comes! He is washing and will be ready to eat in a very short while!" 

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. "What? What time is it?" I mumbled. 

"It is past the noon time. Do you feel ill?" 

"What? No. No, I feel okay. En- who?" 

"Pardon?" 

I practically stumbled from the bed, glad I was at least wearing a pair of draw-string bottoms that Jim had provided for use as pajamas. I grabbed the clothes I'd been wearing yesterday and gave Eliini a grin and a shrug. "I'd better hurry..." I held up the clothing, but she looked at me with confusion. "I need to dress." Again, she didn't respond, but nodded and smiled. "Eliini, I need to change and I can't do that with you standing here." 

She looked at me for another moment before she broke into a delightful laugh. I grinned in response. She shook her head and patted my arm. In English, she said, "I forget sometimes that Americans have embarrassment." With that, she turned and left, giving me a wave. "Hurry. The food is ready." 

Now with even more questions buzzing in my brain, I jumped into the clothes and made it out onto the veranda just as Jim was sitting down. Eliini covered the table with dishes of vegetables, meat, fresh fruit, corn tortillas, and a jug, probably of some type of juice. 

"Hello, Jim." 

Jim's gaze had been already latched onto the doorway so when I walked onto the veranda, he looked like he'd been -- waiting. Like he'd heard me coming in spite of the fact that I hadn't made hardly any noise in my bare feet. I'd forgotten my sandals and I stood next to the table, grinning and wiggling my toes. "Oops." 

Jim glanced under the table. "I don't see anything that will have you for lunch. Sit." 

I nodded, taking a seat. Jim started to fill my plate. I finally had to pull it away, telling Jim firmly, "Enough! Geez, Jim. Let me take a few bites before you try to pile on more!" 

With an unapologetic grin, Jim dove into his food. I nibbled a little bit of everything while I watched Jim eat. He had a good appetite and from the large amount he ate, I knew that he spent hours every day burning thousands of calories at the hard physical work he performed. He was wearing the inevitable white cotton shirt, but this shirt was one that pulled over the head. It had a deep v-cut neck with ties at the top of the V. The ties hung open and the shirt exposed a nice bit of his chest. I admired the smooth skin and defined muscles, unconsciously licking my lips. I knew then that I must have been getting better because my blood quickened and I felt the beginning of arousal tingle through my body that was much stronger than the desire I'd felt earlier. 

Now I'd been attracted to a few men in my life, but I'd never acted on that attraction. I liked women also, but in all honesty, I was generally so busy that I had little time for much of a social life. I dated occasionally, and I wasn't a virgin -- at least as far as women were concerned. But this... this feeling was nice. Warm and comforting. It flowed through me. Being interested in Jim seemed -- right somehow, and even though I was a bit surprised at myself, I still felt too damned good right now to question it. I looked at Jim, admired his body, and let myself be happy. 

\--------------------

When I finally dragged my errant thoughts back to the present, I discovered Jim was closely observing me. He'd stopped eating and had sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. I know I blushed, but I tried to appear nonchalant. 

"This is good," I said, nibbling on a slice of mango. 

"Yes, it is," Jim responded, his voice obviously not discussing the fruit. 

I felt myself blush deeper, knowing full well that somehow Jim was very much aware of my interest and my arousal. I swallowed the fruit, took a sip from my glass of water, and cleared my throat. I decided I might as well deflect Jim's interest from me with a bunch of irritating questions. I didn't even have time to ask the first one because at that moment, a voice echoed down the veranda. 

"Hello!" 

A large black man -- Simon, obviously -- came from around the house. Waving a hand, he climbed the stairs and walked heavily across the wooden porch. 

Simon's eyes met mine, he nodded before turning to Jim and without preamble, stated, "So this is the one." 

I looked at Jim, who looked at me and actually blushed, before I looked back at Simon. "One what?" I asked. 

Simon stood, hands on hips, and bellowed, "Ellison, you didn't tell him?" 

\-------------------------------

I know my eyes were wide and my mouth was open when I stared at Jim. "Tell me what?" I demanded, my sense of comfort and ease suddenly gone. "What could you possibly have to tell me about... anything? Are the other guys dead? Are you keeping that from me? What?" I would have risen and paced, but suddenly, I wasn't feeling all that chipper, so I leaned forward and held Jim's gaze with mine. "Tell me," I demanded in a low voice. 

Jim looked startled for about two seconds before his face smoothed out and I was amazed to see any emotions fade away. He looked cold and distant, and I remembered that look from down at the dock. It didn't exactly warm the cockles of my heart, as they say. We stared at each other for at least a full minute before Simon finally broke the spell. 

Simon snorted loudly and pulled up a chair. Glibly, he rambled on, pulling a clean plate toward him and piling food onto it. He started to eat and talked while he did so. "Jim is such a -- romantic," he explained, wiping his fingers on a napkin. "Simon Banks," he said to me, holding out a big hand. I carefully held out mine and he pumped it briskly. I'm sure I looked a bit daunted at the strength in his hand because he chuckled and said, "Oh, sorry. You look a hell of a lot better." Several slices of melon disappeared before he asked, "How you doing?" 

Still confused, I muttered, "Fine. You carried me from the dock that first day. I remember." Simon nodded. "Tell me what?" I looked at Jim once again and he seemed to sink into his chair. But whatever was going on, at least he hadn't run away. That was a good sign, I thought. I'd rather talk things out than deal with a coward. 

Pouring a glass of the juice, Simon finished his meal by polishing off the liquid. He then wiped his fingers and mouth before he turned to his friend and said, "For God's sake, Jim! You've waited what? Five, six years?" 

We both sat and looked at Jim. He shifted in his chair and without looking at me, he finally muttered, "Seven." 

I know I must have looked confused and unhappy and very wary because when my heart started to thump in response, Jim immediately sat up and looked directly at me. "Please, Sandburg -- Blair. It's nothing bad! At least, I hope it's not. I don't think- I was going to tell, er, discuss it with you when you were feeling better! Please, Chief..."

I stared at him for a long minute before I slowly nodded. After all, these two men rescued me from a life of slavery or certain death. They hadn't harmed me. In fact, they'd nursed me back to health and were taking pretty good darned care of me right now. I was fed and bathed and treated as an equal; as a guest and a -- friend. Slowly, I nodded. "Okay, then explain it to me." 

Jim started to speak but as luck would have it, at that moment, Eliini came through the front door and out onto the veranda. When her eyes fell on Simon, her face broke into a huge smile and she let out a happy cry. She called out an endearment in Quechua and Simon rose. He grinned like a fool and took a few steps away from the table, holding out his arms. The woman flew into them and when Simon swept her up and planted a noisy kiss on her lips, I swear her feet were three feet off the ground! Simon is a huge guy, six feet three or four, and hits well over two hundred pounds. The lady was barely a hundred pounds and wasn't even five feet tall. I'm sure if I stood next to her, for a change, I'd feel tall. 

I must have let out a small chuckle, because Jim looked at me and smiled. I grinned back, shrugging. It was nice seeing two people so much in love. For a second, I wish I had somebody to love that much, and I know I must have again done something to raise Jim's concern, because he said quietly, "I think it will work out, Chief. Just give me a chance to explain." 

I glanced sideways at him for a moment, wondering how in the hell he'd known, that twice in the past fifteen minutes I'd felt some strong emotion, but before I could examine the idea further or reassure Jim that I would very happily give him a chance to explain, Simon walked over to me and proudly said, "This is my wife, Eliini." 

I smiled at Eliini, who held onto Simon's arm with both of her hands and grinned. 

Jim groused, "For God's sake, Simon, Blair's already met Eliini while you were out hunting." 

Simon shrugged. "I didn't introduce her. She's my wife and it's my duty as head of the family to properly introduce her to newcomers." 

"It's fine, Jim," I said, rising. I smiled and held out my hand to Eliini. Knowing how highly prized a good woman was to any warrior, and knowing that Simon was indeed a warrior, regardless of his birthplace or nationality, I accepted the introduction from a proud husband showing off his wife to the newcomer. 

I intoned the properly formal Quechuan and Peruvian greetings and thanked them for accepting me into their home as a guest. Eliini stepped forward and took my hand, thanking me for the kind words. I liked when she said my name; with her accent, it sounded melodious coming from her lips. She glanced over her shoulder at her husband and after a few words were exchanged, Simon nodded and ordered me back into the chair to rest. I smiled and sat, since I admit I was feeling a bit rough about then. We'd been out on the veranda for a few hours, and I was starting to feel a little shaky. I sighed, irritated that I was still feeling the residual effects of my ordeal. 

"It's only been two days," Jim said. 

"Two days since what?" 

"Since you were well enough to get out of bed. Give yourself a break, Sandburg." 

I nodded, mentally shaking myself. How did Jim know what I was feeling? I tried to find a fragment of residual energy left in my body so that I could talk to Jim. I had those thousand questions running around in my head, along with a million more, and Jim and I definitely needed to talk. But I wanted to do that in private and at that moment, Eliini was busy clearing the table and Simon was following her back and forth, telling her about his hunting trip. I put my head back and closed my eyes, intending to rest for a few moments until Jim and I were alone. 

\---------------------------

"Put me down!" 

"Take it easy, Sandburg." 

"Jim, this is embarrassing! I can walk." 

"Don't fight me on this, okay? Besides, we're already here," Jim said, gently laying me on my bed. "You're all done in. You almost took a header out of your chair. You need a nap." 

"No... Want to... Need to ask... Talk..." 

I fought falling asleep with everything I had, but the battle didn't last long. I closed my eyes. I felt the edges of sleep tugging at my body, and in the twilight just before I drifted off, I swear I felt Jim's hand on my forehead, resting there comfortingly while he said softly, in this voice, that later, when I thought about it, was definitely -- loving. "Sleep, Chief. We'll talk later." 

With a surrendering sigh, I nodded. "We'll talk after dinner," I said as firmly as I could, which I'm sure wasn't with much firmness, because Jim chuckled. 

"You are such a hard head!" he groused. 

I didn't even have a chance to defend myself. I was gone in seconds. 

\---------------------------

When I climbed from bed, I pushed aside the curtain and looked out, my mouth falling open with surprise. It was morning! From the position of the sun, it was still early, but I couldn't believe I'd slept for another long stretch. My stomach loudly growled its displeasure. Obviously, Jim hadn't woken me for dinner last night, and by then, I was famished. Letting the curtain drop back into place, I stretched my arms up high. I was feeling pretty darned good and very happy about it. I wasn't a good patient during the best of times, and after this latest adventure, I was anxious to get back to feeling my old self again. Of course, nothing would ever be back to "normal" for me. My friend and mentor, Eli Stoddard, was dead, and I couldn't even give him a decent burial. I vowed to myself that I would give him a memorial service as soon as I could arrange it. It would make me feel better knowing that I at least said a few prayers and offered something up to the gods that we studied together over the years. 

Hopefully, Jim and I would be able to find Mick and Aaron and they would be able to return to their homes and their families. I wasn't giving up that idea until I knew for a fact that they were -- dead. 

I wandered out through the house and to the kitchen, which was situated on a large screened porch on the back of the house. Eliini saw me and smiled brightly. With a wave, she directed me to a chair at the scrupulously scrubbed table. I couldn't do anything about the kidnapped students right now, and Eliini didn't deserve to have me moping about in her kitchen, so I tried to smile and I managed to bid her good morning, watching while she set out a breakfast. I was hungry in spite of my earlier unhappy thoughts, so I sampled a little of each thing. The fruit was sweet and fresh. The corn cakes were crisply fried and flavored with banana. I must not have eaten quite enough because she kept putting different kinds of breads and fruits in front of me, along with a cup of a steamy liquid. I sipped and discovered that it was chocolate, also sweetened with cane syrup that they must have also grown. 

She made clucking noises and once, went to the window calling to the children playing in the yard. I walked to the screened door and looked out, watching the cavorting children. They ran and laughed and played like children everywhere. 

"Which are yours?" I asked, knowing the pride that Amazon women have in their children, like women the world over. 

Surprisingly, she spoke English very well. "Marco! Naiya! This is Mr. Blair Sandburg, one of Enqueri's friends!" she said to two of the children who answered her call. They responded with "yes, mamas" to their mother, giggled at me and with shy glances, scampered off after she smiled and bid them to behave. Turning to me, she explained in pleasantly accented English, "My husband wished his children to speak his language. I wished to speak his language because he is my husband." 

I nodded and smiled. "Please, call me Blair. Is -- Enqueri off working?" Of course, I'd figured out yesterday that she addressed Jim by his Chopec name. Now that I thought about it, I realized that the word was familiar to me, and I had to smile when I realized that Jim had been given his name as an adult. The word roughly translated to mean "falls from the sky". I wondered why the Chopec had given Jim such a strange name, but knowing how names were selected, it must have had something to do with an endeavor or task that Jim had accomplished and that the Chopec thought it fit Jim's personality or something he'd achieved. Eliini's voice brought me from my reverie. 

"Yes. He has many duties. It is a large plantation and requires much work." 

Knowing I didn't have a choice but to postpone my desire to find out exactly what the heck was going on, I said, "Thanks." I sipped the chocolate before asking, "Why do you call him Enqueri?" 

Eliini said simply, "It is his name." 

"Ahh," I replied. "What does he do?" She looked puzzled for a second so I expanded my question by asking, "What does the plantation grow? Corn," I pointed to a cake, "bananas, cacao" 

"Yes. Much crops the plantation grows. In English some of the words I do not know... Avocados, beans, many fruits... lemons, coffee, and for the shaman, many..." She paused, searching for the correct word. 

"Herbs?" 

"Yes, herbs. Many, many herbs. The shaman tends the herbs."

"You have a shaman?" 

"Incacha. He is very wise. He knows the ways of the Sentinel." 

I sat forward. "Sentinel?" I whispered. "Sentinel?" 

"There are potatoes, many kinds... Fruits, papayas, melons... Enqueri feeds many people and uses crops to trade for fuel and cloth and..." Eliini's voice faded away and she lightly touched my arm. "Are you well? Do you wish to sleep?" 

I must have looked unsettled because her eyes were full of concern, but I ignored her look and said, "Tell me..." I cleared my dry throat. "Can you tell me about the Sentinel?" 

"It is for Enqueri," she said softly, closing the subject with firm kindness. "At the midday meal, you may wish to speak with him about Sentinels. It is not for me, but for the shaman." 

I was confused now. Just who was the Sentinel? But from the look on Eliini's face, I knew it would be rude to question her further. I was in her country, and the rules of decorum differed from the sometimes more intrusive customs of mine. I offered to help her with her chores, but she would have none of it, and my protests that I was feeling well fell on deaf ears. She literally pushed me into my chair so I smiled and followed her orders. Just like Jim said. Eliini ran the house. 

With a grin, I asked, "Do you mind if I practice my Quechua with you? We've been speaking English and I seriously need to work on my Quechua." 

I could see she was pleased that I was interested enough to speak with her in her native language. With the inevitable grin, she switched to Quechua, chattering about the plantation, the crops, her children and other facts about daily life while she bustled around the kitchen. Finally, figuring I'd taken up enough of her busy day, I asked, "Do you think I could take a bath?" 

With her usual graciousness, she showed me the bath house, which was a small wooden building constructed a short distance from the house. One side was the latrine, which I'd already used several times. The other side, with a separate entrance, was, I discovered much to my pleasure, a rather nicely built solar shower. She explained about the cistern on the roof where the water gathered and where the sun warmed it. She then explained how the shower operated by a pull rope that controlled the water's flow down from the roof and through the punched metal showerhead. 

The floor was almost cool under my toes, made of many pieces of very smooth rock and, to my surprise, with a drain in the center. When I mentioned the luxuriousness of the accommodations, she grinned and said Enqueri loved to shower, although there was a large metal tub that she pointed to on a small raised platform along one wall for anybody who wished to bathe. Also in the corner, on a wooden shelf was a stack of colorful towels and several covered jars. Eliini explained that one was a nicely-scent balsam soap; the second was a flower-scented oil which she said made the skin soft and smell pleasantly, and the last was a shampoo that she said would make my hair silky clean and easily combed. She showed me several combs (plastic!) and bid me to chose one for my own, mentioning with my long hair that I had much work to do. With a parting smile, she left me to my bathing. 

It felt wonderful! The water was lukewarm and there was plenty of it. I washed my hair thoroughly, as well as the rest of my body. I carefully examined the bullet wound that I could now see after removing the bandage. It looked okay to my inexperienced eyes. I'd seen plenty of wounds before, but this was the first I'd seen caused by a bullet. The flesh around the entry point was a healthy color. There was no sign of infection, and in fact, quite a bit of the jagged tear was already healing. While it was sore and I was sure it would make a hell of a scar, it wasn't painful any longer. I sent up a prayer of thanks to the jungle gods for that bit of good fortune. 

My head felt fine; no residual headache after last night's restful sleep. The many bruises and scrapes that dotted my skin here and there were healing or fading. It looked like I was going to make it after all. I grinned while I dried my body. When I reached for the clothing I'd worn, I was surprised to see clean ones neatly folded, resting on the small stool nearby. Eliini, I knew. She seemed to be a kind and even-tempered person, and Simon was lucky to have her, I mused, dressing in the clean cotton pants and shirt. I slipped into my sandals and wandered around the house to the front. I walked down toward the river and stood on the dock, watching the water flowing by. 

I heard a splash off to my right and I turned, shading my eyes with my hand. A large cayman swam toward an unsuspecting ibis. I watched while the predator stalked its prey. It seemed that luck was with the bird this time, because just before the cayman could strike, it took off, wings flapping gracefully. 

"They're very beautiful, aren't they?" the familiar voice from behind me said. 

I turned, nodding, unable to stop the smile that spread across my face. "Yes, very." We both stood and watched the bird's flight until I could no longer see the speck in the sky. Jim seemed to be able to follow the bird's path of flight much longer than I, because it was another full minute before he dragged his eyes away from the sky. 

"It's time for lunch," Jim said. 

"Lunch?" I echoed. "I just had breakfast." 

Jim shook his head in exasperation, but I could see the twinkle in his eyes. For some reason, he thought I was -- amusing. I glared at him for a moment before I noticed the sweat-streaked face, and the shirt and pants he wore stained with more sweat and spots of dirt. I immediately asked, "Are you okay? You look a bit worse for wear." 

He chuckled. "Some of us were up at dawn, Chief. Some of us had to work. Some of us had to make sure that two acres of potatoes, yams, and squash were weeded and watered." He jauntily called over his shoulder as he started to walk toward the house, "...and some of us are hungry!" 

"Sorry, Jim," I called with a smile. "Eliini said you have a lot of responsibilities." 

"Nothing to apologize for, Sandburg. You're still recovering." I watched his back as he walked toward the house. My mind started formulating the many questions that I needed answered. I wondered about how I'd ended up here, with Jim, far away from home, and why I felt -- okay about that. Hoping that the answers Jim could provide might help with this mystery, I glanced at the proud set of his shoulders. He stopped for a moment to allow me to catch up, and side by side, we made our way across the narrow strip of open area in front of the house. A couple of pea hens followed a strutting peacock, its feathers opened in a full Technicolor display. I admired the beauty of the creatures before I climbed the stairs to sit and wait while Jim went and had a quick wash. So far, I mused, almost all of our time together had been at this very table. I was starting to like the furniture. 

\---------------------------- 

"Drink, Chief." Jim nodded at the glass of fresh lemonade Eliini had pressed into my hand when I had politely declined more food. He stabbed a cube of fried banana with his fork and chewed. I sipped the delicious, subtly flavored drink while I waited for him to finish his meal and push away his plate before I finally asked my first question. 

I had thought long and hard about what to ask. I picked and discarded many questions before I settled my decision on one all-encompassing statement. "Tell me the whole story, Jim." 

Jim didn't even need to ask me what whole story I was referring to. Somehow, we both knew. He sipped his own drink before he lounged back in his chair, stretching out his long legs. He'd cleaned off the worst of the sweat and grime, and had changed into a clean light shirt and pull-on cotton pants. It seems that these types of garments were the Amazon's answer to sweats. I grinned, admiring strong lines of Jim's face: the chiseled jaw and the determined chin. I did, however, force myself not to stare at his mouth. He gave a small snort before he set down his glass. 

With his gaze firmly holding mine, he said simply, "I'm a Sentinel and you're my Guide." When my mouth fell open but nothing came out, he shrugged. "Knew it the second I saw you... all dirty and smelly and... I felt it here," he placed his hand over his heart, "and here," then touched his forehead. "It's -- instinct, I guess. I just know." 

"Oh, shit," I whispered. 

Jim shifted in his chair and sat up, elbows on the table. Leaning in a little, he asked quietly, "Is that a good 'Oh, shit', or an unhappy, 'Oh, shit'?" 

I cleared my throat and said, "I think it's a -- good 'Oh, shit'." 

The troubled look on his face fell away and he laughed, melodiously and deeply. "You are a piece of work, Sandburg." 

"Why?" 

"Why are you a piece of work, or why am I here, thousands of miles from the States, finally finding the Guide I've searched for, for a dozen years in some remote corner of the world?" 

"Karma?" 

Jim snickered. "Where are you from anyway?" 

"Cascade, Washington." 

Jim stared at me in complete disbelief for a full minute before he said, "You're kidding." I shook my head. "Well, fuck." 

"Is that a good '"Well, fuck', or a bad, 'Well, fuck'?" I quipped. 

Jim laughed again. "Where do you think Simon and I are from?" 

"Don't tell me... Cascade, Washington?" 

"Bingo. Give the man a cigar." 

"This is very freaky, man. Very freaky." 

Jim smiled. "It was meant to be. You were meant to be here, right here," Jim tapped a finger against the table, "for me to find. You're my Guide." 

"I... know about Sentinels, Jim. It... They were supposed to be the subject of my doctoral thesis. But I've searched and searched with no luck... until now. That's how you knew when I was scared or tired or confused, wasn't it? That's how you knew I was..." I almost said aroused, but that was way too much personal information to divulge right this minute. 

"What?" he prodded, at my hesitation. 

"Yesterday," I said quickly, deflecting my almost blunder, "a couple of times I had the distinct impression you knew what I was -- feeling. You were -- listening to me, weren't you?" 

"Well, damn," he said softly, a very surprised look crossing his face. 

Now I laughed. "We seem to be shocking each other quite a bit." 

"Yes. Seems that way." He paused before he asked, "Does it bother you? That I might -- tune in? Listen to-" He clamped his mouth shut and looked away. 

I sat up straighter. "Listen to my body? Is that what you do, Jim? Listen to my heart beating, my blood flowing, my lungs expanding and contracting?" At his slow, somewhat hesitant nod, I smiled and said, "No. No, it doesn't bother me. Is it hard for you? All that input all the time?" 

For a second, I could see the relief flash across his face. He'd expected some sort of reaction from me, and I don't think that acceptance was what it was. But I know that was exactly what I felt. Right then and there, I knew down to my very soul, that I wanted Jim. Wanted him in so many ways. But I managed to curtail my usual enthusiasm and tried to remain calm and cool about this entire situation. 

With Jim's gaze locked onto mine, I asked again, "How do you control all the information you must receive constantly? It has to be almost impossible." 

He sighed and looked out over the front of the yard before he returned his gaze to mine. "That's why I'm in Peru... I was stranded here in '88 after my helicopter crashed. ("falls from the sky!", I thought triumphantly.) My senses -- resurfaced while I was in the jungle and a tribe of Chopec took me in. Their shaman, Incacha, he helped me understand my senses; he kept me sane and safe until I was rescued by the military. 

"I made it back to Cascade and became a police officer. That's where I met Simon -- he was my CO. We were working on a really rough case about a serial bomber when everything went down the toilet." Jim paused. I could see sadness in his eyes but I remained quiet, letting him tell me in his own words. After a few moments, he continued. 

"The case went to hell in a hand basket. A bus full of tourists was targeted and I blew it big time." He sighed before he said, "Four innocent people were killed. My senses were going haywire, and Simon figured that the best thing was to get me back to Peru, back to Incacha, who at least knew how to help me exercise some sort of control. So I came back here to be close to him, and Simon, God love him, refused to let me come alone. For the past half a dozen years, Incacha's guided me, kept me alive. He knows what to do, but he's always insisting that I must find my Guide. His duties as tribal shaman don't allow him the freedom to guide me as I should be..." Finally running out of words, Jim fell silent. 

My brain whirled so fast, I almost made myself dizzy. Jim had said, "To guide me as I should be...." I'd studied the Sentinel and Guide relationship. I knew what he meant. Now it was my time to blush. I'd never engaged in a same sex relationship before, but Jim... He was attractive, desirable, handsome, and I felt this -- pull to him. It felt good and pure and just so damned right. 

"Jim, I understand," I said softly. "It's okay. Really." 

Silence fell for a few moments before Jim finally said, "Will you -- stay... here...? I mean, I don't... won't demand- ask for anything... just stay and- Friends, Chief, that's all. Just friends..." Then he blushed. Deeply. Red rushed up his face and clear to the tips of his ears. 

Jim's entire body tensed and I was sure he was mortified about what he was trying to say. I knew he was a proud man who didn't like to rely on others for anything, but being a Sentinel had made him vulnerable. He knew he needed someone to guide him because he was an intelligent man and understood the roles of sentinel and guide, but that didn't make the idea of being reliant on another person for his very safety any easier to swallow. This was probably one of the most difficult things he'd ever done, so I tried to help as much as I was able. I leaned forward and reached across the table. My fingers lightly brushed the back of his hand. Even though I wanted to help, I needed something too. It was essential that Jim look at me and it was even more essential that Jim ask me for what he needed out loud. For some reason, I knew what to ask for and I knew how to get it. I knew what Jim required, and I also knew what I had to have for this to move forward. I didn't quite understand where this knowledge came from, only that it was present at that very moment. 

Softly, I said, "You need to ask me, Jim. I need to hear you." 

Jim shifted and glanced away before he turned back to me. He turned his hand over, palm up and let my fingers rest in his. Our eyes locked, his were hopeful, but still there was a hint of wariness when he asked, "Will you stay here with me and be my Guide?" 

"Yes." 

Jim must have stared at me for a good two or three minutes. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was giving me the Sentinel once-over, deeply and fully. He was doing his deal and all I could do was sit and wait. When he finally nodded and smiled, and I saw the acceptance for my decision in his eyes, then I knew that I'd been right. This was exactly where I belonged.

\-------------------------------------

Jim and I fell into a bit of a routine after that night. Thankfully, I was feeling a heck of a lot better, and after a day or two in the house, cabin fever set in, so I began rising in the morning when he did, and we had breakfast together. Then he began showing me how the plantation was run, what he did on a daily basis and I was introduced to all of the other people who lived on the plantation and in a nearby village, and who worked in the fields with him. 

Jim worked right along with his people. He had a personal relationship with them and when he talked about them, he called them "my people". I know that he felt that they were his responsibility, and he took his role as their guardian seriously. He knew each of the almost 100 natives by name; he knew their spouses' names, as well as each child, parent, or other relation. And they all respected him and he returned their loyalty. For a good day's work, he paid his people in food and in goods. Jim explained that when he took trade goods into Iquitos to sell, each worker received a portion in cash so that they could barter or buy things that were unattainable on the plantation. Even this far from what we call "civilization", his people wanted some of the modern world's goods that they needed or just desired and could afford. All in all, it seemed to work out for everybody. 

It was amazing to see the variety of crops that were grown. Fruits, vegetables, grains, legumes, herbs. Some common crops that I was familiar with; some indigenous crops that I'd never seen before but that were quite tasty and/or very useful. I thought the coffee and cacao beans were the most useful. Jim grows the best coffee this side of Costa Rica, and Eliini makes the most delicious hot chocolate drink that I've ever had. I know if we found a way to sell it, we'd be rich. But then, I'm already rich, having Jim as my life mate. 

\------------------------------------

I'd been on the plantation a couple of weeks when Jim found me sitting down on the dock at sunset one evening. I hadn't been very talkative that day; something you'd think would have made Jim happy, but apparently, all my silence did was tip him off that something was up with me. 

"Hey, Chief," Jim said, sitting down beside me. "It's time for supper." 

"Hey, Jim," I answered, swinging my legs above the water that flowed under my feet. "I think I'll just sit here for a while." 

"You okay?" I shrugged. "You've been quiet today." 

"Not much to say, I guess. I've been doing a lot of thinking." 

I knew Jim's gaze was latched onto me, inspecting, observing, taking in information, and I know I should have reassured him that I was okay, but I couldn't help it; I felt depressed and I'm not very good at hiding my emotions. Not like Jim, who's the king of stoicism. I've tried, but it's hard for me to keep things bottled up. Although, I have to admit, I'd actually thought I had been doing pretty good about repressing the past few days. I hadn't bugged Jim once for three days about our going out to try and find Mick and Aaron, and I hadn't asked him if he'd had any news about the guys. I knew if he was ready to start a search, he'd have told me. Or if he had received news, he'd have passed it on. In fact, I decided that it was about time I made my own decision about the matter, and I might as well use this opportunity to let Jim know what I had decided. 

"Jim, man, I'm leaving in the morning." I glanced sideways into Jim's face. I saw the surprised look that quickly changed into what I can only describe as despair. Then, in barely a breath, his face was totally blank. "Jim-" 

"Save it, Sandburg," he said curtly, rising swiftly. 

I rose as well, racing after him. "Jim! Jim, wait!" He ignored my calls, which really pissed me off. Using my best Guide voice, I ordered, "Damn it to hell, Ellison! Stop right there!" I saw his shoulders tense, but he did stop, back to me. I stalked over to him and walked around his rigid body so that we were face to face. "You are a royal pain in the ass. You jump to conclusions. You are pig-headed. You are so damned exasperating that sometimes, I can hardly stand it!" He glared down at me, eyes cold and hard. I saw his jaw muscle twitch, and I couldn't help glaring back. "You jump to conclusions without asking questions, and you are plain infuriating! Furthermore, you are rude and a, a -- pain in the ass!" 

"You already said that," Jim growled. 

I moved closer, invading Jim's personal space. I latched my hands onto his shirt and as I yanked him closer until our noses almost touched, I growled in return, "When I said I was leaving, I didn't mean leaving you, you asshole. I meant I was leaving to go and search for those students. You are such a dick." Then I dragged Jim the last few inches and planted my lips on his. I held on, kissing him until both of us were breathless. Only then did I release his shirt and spin on my heels to do my own imitation of the Ellison stalk, walking away with as much irritation showing as I could muster. 

I'd only made it a few feet when hands grabbed my shoulders and spun me around. Those same hands clasped my upper arms and a hot, demanding mouth covered mine. I know I moaned and parted my lips. Jim didn't hesitate. He dove in, exploring my mouth until I was shaking in my sandals. Finally, he pushed me away. My hand flew to my mouth. I pressed my fingers against the swollen skin while my eyes met Jim's. He glared yet again before he reached out with a finger to touch my cheek. I dropped my fingers and gave a shaky smile. 

"God, Jim..." 

"Me, too..." 

"I... That was... I never... Well, shit. Kiss me again!" 

He did. He moved forward and this time, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me close. I slipped mine around his waist and our mouths met. This time, the kiss was softer, more loving, but still, with the strength of a man's kiss. I loved it. I met Jim's force with my own. I don't have a clue how long we kissed, but I do know that when we finally parted, I wanted more -- much more. 

With Jim's gaze locked onto mine, he whispered, "We'll leave at first light." 

I nodded, unable to speak. My entire body was on fire. I wanted to fling myself into Jim's arms and make wild, passionate love with him right then and there. I saw his nostrils flare and his head cock. I knew he knew that I wanted him in the worse way. He gave me the sweetest smile and leaned in, kissing my forehead. 

"Let's go in for supper." 

I looked into his eyes for a moment, searching for rejection. I didn't see anything of the sort, instead I know I saw love reflected in them, so I let Jim set the pace. I nodded and said, "I could eat." 

Jim ruffled my hair, hooked his arm in mine and led me up to the house. 

\-------------------------------

That next morning, I paced the dock, muttering to myself. I was exasperated because it was well past sunrise and we still hadn't left on our journey. I had expected that we would have been on our way at dawn, but apparently, Jim had other ideas. I knew I was being unreasonable, because even though I was annoyed that we weren't under way yet, I was even more annoyed with myself. I'd tried to help with the loading of the boats, the reason for our delay, but as it turned out, the workers, Jim and Simon worked faster without my help. They were well used to their chores and I ended up being in the way more than being useful. I watched the men loading trade goods onto the boats as I paced, silently urging the men to hurry. With an irritated sigh, I turned and barely took one step when I accidentally walked headlong into one of the workers, knocking the sacks he carried out of his arms. 

"Sorry," I muttered. While I helped the man pick up the items, I glanced toward Jim, but his back was to me. Irritated anew, I turned and stalked away. I figured I might as well find some place to wait where I didn't interfere with the busy goings-on at the dock. Arms crossed tightly on my chest, I put my head down and walked away as fast as I could. 

"Chief!" I ignored the call. I was too irritated with myself, and with Jim right now and I knew if I answered, it would be with anger, and I also knew that it was probably unfounded. Jim wouldn't have delayed us unless it was important. But sometimes feelings didn't listen to reason. I walked a few more steps before Jim's hand latched onto my arm. "Sandburg, wait!" 

I froze in place. Not turning, I barked, "What?" 

"What's wrong?" 

"Nothing." 

"Come on. You're definitely pissed about something." When I didn't respond, but remained with my head bent and my arms crossed, Jim moved to stand in front of me. He reached out and touched my shoulder. "Chief, you're upset about something." 

"I'm good," I muttered, kicking at the dirt with the toe of my sandal. 

"Blair?" 

I glanced up. Jim had called me Blair maybe once before so I knew from his use of my first name and from his tone that he was concerned. I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "It's really selfish... I'm sorry, but..." I glanced at the men loading the boats with sacks of grains, coffee, cacao beans. Some of them carried smaller, lighter sacks stacked high, filled, I knew, with a wide variety of herbs. Another man carried a large square container that held about a dozen smaller pots, each with a rare and beautiful orchid growing from them. I watched while the man carefully found a protected spot on the boat for the plants. 

"But what? Listen to me. If you and I can't talk about -- stuff, then how is this relationship going to work?" Jim asked seriously. 

My gaze met his and when I saw he was sincere, I slowly nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry. I just- It's all this stuff!" I waved a hand at the men who were working quickly, I'm sure, but for me, it was still a delay of the start of the trip. "You're acting like the reason we're going downriver is so that you can make money! I don't think you're serious about finding those kids!" 

Jim's hand, still planted on my shoulder, squeezed gently, and instead of biting my head off, which is probably what I deserved, his look was one of patient understanding. Now, even his patience irritated me unreasonably, but I made myself listen while he spoke. "Our first line of business is finding the men. I promise you we won't continue onto Iquitos until we know something definite. Does that work for you? We don't go down into Iquitos until we know. I swear, Chief. You have to trust me on this." 

Our eyes met. I knew Jim didn't lie and I knew I did trust him, so I nodded and let out a shaky breath. "Okay, Jim. Thanks." 

"Sure, Chief. I understand. But you need to know that we don't waste resources here. If we're making this trip, first, we'll find the students, then we'll go downriver to the city and sell the goods. The students will need to go to the embassy. They might even need a hospital. That comes first. But after they're taken care of, then my people need supplies that the plantation can't provide. But they all understand that the main purpose of this trip is to find your missing companions. Okay?" 

"Yes. Sorry I was so -- testy." 

Jim smiled. "It's okay. You've been pretty patient, which, for you, is something that isn't easy, and which is a trait that you need to work on." 

I glanced up into his smiling face. "Dick." 

"Dork," he returned. "You ready?" 

"Yeah." 

"Good." 

\--------------------------------

From the cover of the thick jungle, we watched the comings and goings from the huge and busy compound spread out in front of us. The entire complex was enclosed with a ten foot barbed wire fence. There was a main entrance/exit off to my right, with a smaller one that I could see at the far end of the compound. There were several large tents that seemed to serve as a mess and barracks. Smaller tents dotted the compound, but none were marked, so I had no idea what they held. We watched for at least an hour, during which time my legs started to cramp from my hunkered position. I bit my lip and glanced at my companions. 

Simon was on my left and Jim on my right. Two of the four of Jim's men were behind us while the other two had remained with the boats, keeping watch over them and their cargo. 

"It looks like a lumber company," I whispered. 

Jim gave a quiet snort. "Drug lab." 

I scanned the area behind the barbed wire. "Where? I don't see anything." 

"Underground. Two o'clock. Under those boxes. They're concealing a hidden door." 

"You can see-?" I started to ask before I remembered. "Oh, right. Good work, man. Great, in fact." 

Jim turned to me and grinned. "Time to put this show on the road. You remember the plan?" 

From my other side, I heard Simon chuckle. I sighed and nodded. "Yes, Jim." 

"Good." He exchanged a few words with the two warriors behind me before he melted away. I waited, scanning the compound carefully. I had to really search, but I finally located Jim. He was edging into one of the tents on the opposite side of the open center area of the camp. My gaze latched onto him and I watched him, fascinated. He had somehow changed into -- a warrior! His face and body were painted with black markings. He wore a quiver of arrows on his back and in his hand, he carried a bow. He'd wrapped a piece of cloth around his head, and other than the green camo pants he wore, he looked like the reincarnation of a Chopec god whose relief I'd seen in the photos that Eli had taken on one of this expeditions to the famed Temple of the Sentinels on the Yucatan. 

I glanced to my left. Simon and one of the warriors were gone. They'd taken off to execute their part of the plan. I kept a close watch to be sure nobody discovered Jim. When I saw him exit the tent and cast a quick glance in my direction, I knew that was my signal. I turned and gave Pelino, my companion, a quick nod and moved rapidly. Crouching low, I skittered along the brush until I came to a ditch. I dropped to my belly and crawled forward until I cleared the barbed wire, with my companion right behind me. The motor pool tent that Jim had identified to me was to my right and keeping to the shadows, we waited for our signal. 

At the first small explosion, most of the men in the compound raced to the center, shouting and glancing about, looking for the source of the blast. One of the tents furthest away from me was burning, black smoke billowing from the roof that blazed fiercely. As the men raced toward the burning tent, shouting for buckets, we slipped through the flap in the motor pool tent and climbed into the nearest large army truck. It was covered with green canvas and was big enough to hold the people Jim had sensed were working in the underground drug lab. 

Pelino climbed into the passenger's side and watched while I looked along the dash and under the seat. At his questioning look, I explained. "No keys. Damn it anyway. Why the hell would anybody take the keys out of the ignition? Who's going to steal a damned truck in the middle of the jungle?" Pelino raised an eyebrow and grinned. I shrugged, seeing the irony of my statement, and laughed softly. "Oh, right! We are!" 

Exasperated, I reached under the dash and yanked down a handful of wires. "Damn it! I knew I should have taken auto shop in school!" While I was muttering darkly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Pelino grinned at me, his eyes twinkling. He gave me a little push. I moved back and he slid over, expertly connecting a couple of the wires. The engine coughed once before it roared to life. I must have looked at him with shock because he shrugged and grinned again. 

"Enqueri teach useful junk. Boat engine not very different," he said in broken English. All I could do was chuckle, depress the clutch, yank the gearshift into first and floor it. The truck lurched forward. I hadn't driven anything quite this large with a manual transmission before so as the truck moved through the tent's flaps, I ground the gears into second and headed toward the main exit. 

From beside a large tent, Jim jumped out, waving an arm. I stomped on the brakes, sliding on the dirt. I watched with a happy heart and a wide grin in spite of the explosions that started to detonate all around us because from the shadows, a group of people emerged, running for the back of the truck. I saw the two missing students, along with at least a dozen local men, several women and even a few children. Simon, Jim and our third man raced toward the back of the truck. I heard the tailgate drop and felt the truck shake as each person was loaded into the bed. Watching through the side view mirror, I prayed that they hurried. I saw men from the compound shouting and racing our way, shooting as they ran. 

Simon jumped onto the running board on the passenger's side and grabbed onto the side view mirror, yelling, "Go, Sandburg! Go!" 

I stomped on the gas, gears grinding. The truck moved forward slower this time with the extra weight of the people we'd rescued. I stepped on the accelerator even harder, moving the transmission into second. The truck picked up speed and when the closed barbed wire gate loomed ahead, I barreled right through. Bullets hit the truck from all directions. Simon pointed the gun at the man in the watchtower alongside the gate and fired. In the side view mirror, I saw the man tumble from his perch and hit the ground. Simon sprayed more bullets at anyone who tried to get in our way, clearing a path and we rumbled through the gate and down the road. When I looked back, I saw Jim jump from the truck and run back into the compound. 

"What's he doing?" I shouted, seeing that Simon had also noticed Jim's actions. 

"Finishing up," Simon yelled. "He'll catch up at the river. Keep going!" 

I nodded, not happy about leaving Jim, even though I knew he'd be okay. Don't ask me how; I just knew. We'd gone maybe a half mile when the ground shook. I looked into the side view mirror again and I could see a huge cloud of black smoke rising from the direction of the compound. I slowed down a little, enough for Simon to yank open the door and jump in. He nodded his thanks and said, "He'll be okay, Sandburg."

I pressed down on the gas. "Yeah, I know!" I called. "I know," I whispered to myself, reassuring myself that Jim would, indeed, be okay; and that he would be at the river within the hour. After all, it was only about four miles. Knowing Jim, he'd probably beat us to the boats. With a relieved sigh, I drove the group to safety. 

\-----------------------------

The next few days after our rescue of the workers and the students from my original expedition were hectic. My hopes of some private time with Jim went downhill quickly, but my joy at the success of our mission almost made up for it. Almost. 

All of the local people we'd rescued were anxious to head for home, so after a good meal, Jim gave them the truck, and they took their families back to their villages. Two of the workers, two guys from Lima who were on a fishing holiday and who had been kidnapped after becoming lost on the river, returned to the city with our party. Mick and Aaron, who were in fairly good condition in spite of a bit of rough handling and being made to work long hours with not enough food, were very grateful to be released from captivity. They couldn't stop thanking us for their rescue. They thanked me so often that I was almost embarrassed after a while, but I understood. I know how grateful I was to be rescued by Jim and Simon. 

Jim and I barely had ten minutes alone together. By the time Mick and Aaron were returned to an American embassy envoy, by the time all of the goods were sold or traded, and by the time all of the necessary supplies were gathered, we'd been gone from the plantation for six days and Jim was anxious to head back home. 

I was surprised at myself, but I was anxious to go back up river with Jim. I dispatched a letter to Rainier University and to my mother through the envoy so that they would know what happened to me and to Professor Stoddard. It was with a heavy heart that I let the chancellor know of Eli's death, but I was happy to be able to let my mother know I was alive and well. 

With a small share of the money from Jim's portion of the sale of goods, I was able to find some decent clothes. I found some fairly cheap jeans, hiking boots, sneakers, t-shirts and other essentials at a big open air market. With my duffel carefully stowed, I lent a hand to loading the launches for the return journey, joining in the banter with the men while we worked. I could feel Jim's gaze on me while I worked shirtless, sweating in the early morning humidity. I glanced at him a couple of times and smiled. I could see the approval in his eyes, and I liked the way he looked at me -- like I was special, desirable, admired. I felt good and I guess to Jim, I must have looked good also, because several times he paused and watched me, his eyes narrowed in concentration. I knew he was using his senses on me, something that made me grin. It was quite -- unusual to be under Sentinel scrutiny. Hard to describe, but kind of nice. 

A couple of times, when I knew Jim was observing me, I whispered for his ears alone, "When we get home..." or "When we're alone.." or "I'm waiting..." I would give him a quick glance and (what I hoped was) a smoldering look. Hell, I'd never -- seduced a man before. I'd never kissed one before Jim. I'd never even had another guy give me a hand job, but I was looking forward to our first time together, and I wanted Jim to look forward to it also. Now if we could just get underway so we could see where this relationship could lead... 

\--------------------------------

It was a tearful Eliini who stood on the dock, her children hanging onto her skirts as she clenched her hands together. Seeing his wife's upset face, Simon leaped to the dock before the boat was even tied up. By the time Jim and I had tied the launch to its moorings, Simon was shouting to Jim that there was a fever among the workers and some of their family members, and that it wasn't looking good. Jim nodded grimly and after giving stern orders to me and Eliini to stay in the house and away from the village, and after requesting that Pelino stay with us and guard over us, Jim raced after Simon. 

I stood, watching the men disappear behind the house before I turned to the crying woman. "Hey, it will be okay. The medicine man is very good and Incacha is with him. He knows all herbs that will cure the people, drive away the sickness and Incacha will pray over them. They'll be all right." 

Eliini sniffled. "Both have much intelligence, knows many medicines..." she whispered, dabbing her eyes. 

"And they know many ceremonies to help ask the gods to look over all of us." I put a hand on her shoulder and said, "What do you say we get these boats unloaded? There's a lot of stuff that I'm sure needs storing. Jim will be pleased if he knows we didn't sit around and worry. He really drove some hard bargains for some of the goods and we don't want anything to be ruined. What do you say?" 

"Yes," Eliini managed to say after wiping her face with her hand. "Enqueri will be pleased. He works hard and it would not be proper for his labors to be wasted." 

"Good. Now let's get to work. Then maybe later, you can fix me some supper?" 

"I will fix good food." 

With a smile, I said, "You always fix good food, Eliini." 

\---------------------------

For two days, the three of us worked side by side. Even the children pitched in. It took a while to unload the boats and we moved everything to the veranda to sort into groups. Eliini showed me how different things were stored for the best life span. Extra cloth and clothing was folded with herbs between the layers that discouraged bugs and mold, and then tied with twine. There was a storeroom in the house where non-food related items were kept and after the items to be stored were prepared, we found places on the neatly kept shelves for all of the goods. Marco and Naiya were set to sweep the storeroom floor clean and to spread a new layer of dried herbs that were scattered around to keep the bugs away. 

Food-related supplies were stored in the root cellar that was located off to one side of the house. When the entrance was opened, the steps led down about ten feet. I was surprised that the room was cool in spite of the humid air outside. We stored several kinds of grain in tightly woven baskets, along with Jim's case of beer. It wouldn't be cold, but it would be cool when he finally had a chance to drink it. Jim had also bought a case of soda for his people. I had to smile seeing the Coca-Cola. It had to be a universal drink. No matter which country I had visited over the years, I had almost always seen the drink for sale or trade, even in remote places. Again, Eliini had the children sweep all of the dried herbs from the floor and we replaced them with fresh ones. She explained to me while we sorted through the already-dehydrated plants which ones were to repel insects and which helped keep the air dry. 

It was good to be busy because it gave me only twenty-three hours a day to worry about Jim and the others. It was the morning of the third day since we'd returned from our journey that I woke with the realization that something was wrong. We hadn't had a single word from the village and I know we were all terrified thinking about what could possibly be happening there. I'd managed to finally fall asleep for a few hours, but I was startled awake when I was sure I heard Jim calling to me. When I jumped from my bed and hurried out to the kitchen, Eliini, her children and our watchman were eating breakfast. 

"Have you heard from Enqueri?" I asked, anxiously searching the yard for any sign of Jim. "Is he here? I thought I heard him calling." 

"No, nothing," Eliini responded, rising to stand next to me. "No one has been here. I am much worried." 

I glanced at Pelino, who was eating corn cakes with Eliini's citrus jam. I knew he'd never let me do what I knew I had to do, so I sat down and reached for a cake. 

"I'm worried also," I said softly. 

"It has been many days," Eliini said with a sigh. 

"Yes, it has. But if anything bad had happened, Simon or Jim would have sent word." I forced myself to chew and swallow. 

"Yes, you are right," she conceded. "I am a silly woman." 

I sipped from the glass of juice that Eliini had poured for me. "No, you're a very brave woman." Finishing the beverage, I rose. "I'm going to take a shower." 

Eliini nodded. Pelino rose, saying, "I will fish for dinner." 

I headed toward my room for clean clothes, carefully listening. I heard Pelino leave the house and as he walked down the path toward the river, he whistled. I waited until he was out of range before I slipped out of the front door and around the side of the house. I made a wide circle through the woods so that Eliini wouldn't see me and raise any sort of alarm. Jim needed me and nothing would keep me from him. 

\---------------------------

I had no trouble finding Jim. I don't know how, but I knew exactly which hut he was in when I walked into the quiet village. Several people looked up at me as I walked by. There were cooking fires going, and people were doing daily chores. It looked almost normal; even the children were running and playing and the village dogs barked at their heels. Why hadn't Jim come home when it seemed that the sickness had passed? I felt a cold chill run down my spine. I followed my instincts and entered the fourth hut that I approached. 

I walked in and demanded, "Where is he?" In the semi-darkened room, I could barely see figures hovering around a cot while the village medicine man hunkered next to the person lying on the bed. 

"Sandburg!" Simon melted out of the shadows and appeared before me. Standing over me, he glared down. "Get the hell out of here!" 

"Why? It looks like everything's back to normal," I said, waving a hand toward the outside. "Where's Jim? Why hasn't he come home? Simon, I heard Jim call for me!" 

Simon stared at me for a few seconds before he grabbed my arm and physically dragged me from the hut. "There is no way you heard him." 

I blinked in the bright sunlight, shaking loose from his grasp. "What's wrong? Has he been asking for me? He's sick, and you didn't come and get me! Why didn't you send word that he'd fallen ill?" I shouted. "How could you do this? He needs me!" 

Scowling at me, Simon growled, "He'd kill me if he knew you were in danger!" 

"Screw that crap. He needs me! Besides, it looks like things are getting better!" I pushed past Simon and raced into the hut, falling to my knees beside the bed. Squinting in the darkened room, I demanded, "Get me some light, damn it!" 

Someone turned up one of the kerosene lanterns until I could finally see. My gaze raked over Jim. He was very still, obviously unconscious, pale and white as a sheet, and his breathing was raspy. I put a hand on his forehead. "He's burning up. Did you give him something for the fever?" 

The medicine man and Incacha exchanged a few words before Incacha knelt on the ground on the other side of the cot. "Yes, but Enqueri does not respond to the medicine. He said during the night that he was feeling poorly, so Uduma gave Enqueri the medicine that he gives the other sick people. But instead of getting better, Enqueri grows sicker. He is the only one who became much worse after taking the medicine. Uduma does not understand. He gave Enqueri another drink not ten minutes ago, and even now, instead of turning to be well, he is sicker than he was at daybreak." 

I pulled away the blanket that covered Jim's chest and gasped. "Oh, shit." 

"No one in the village who was sick had any kind of -- marks or rash," Simon said, standing behind me. "I don't understand why Jim's fever is different than the others. It almost looks like measles, but I know that's not what the villagers had." 

I barely spared a glance at Simon when I said, "It's not measles. It is a rash. He's not responding to the medicine because he's having an allergic reaction to it!" 

"What?" Simon asked. "I didn't know... What should we do?" 

"We need something to flush his system and give him something to counteract the allergy. I'm not sure I have enough Quechua to explain that to Uduma." 

"No problem, Sandburg. I do," he said firmly. 

Simon must have gotten across my idea because after he spoke to the two men, and after Incacha and the medicine man exchanged hurried words, Uduma nodded briskly and rushed from the hut. 

"Get me some clean water and a couple of cloths, Simon, please. I want to wipe him down. Maybe it will bring his fever down a bit if I can cool off his skin." With a nod and a squeeze to my shoulder, Simon went for the water. "How are the other villagers? Is everybody all right?" I asked Incacha, switching to Quechua. 

He gave me a curt nod. "Most are already well, and the ones who are still sick will be well in a day or two. It was not a bad sickness this time. Not like last time when ten people died. The gods have smiled down on our village."

"Nobody died?" 

"Only one man, but he was very old. It was a quiet death." 

"I'm sorry." 

"He was a warrior," Incacha explained. 

I nodded, moving closer to Jim. His breathing seemed to be growing harsher and his color was very white. "He's having trouble breathing. Where the hell is that medicine man? Where's a damned drug store when you need it!" The words were no sooner out of my mouth when I sat back on my heels. "Incacha! I have some antihistamines in my duffel bag!" 

"I do not know this word." 

"I have -- medicine. White man's medicine that might help. Can you go to the house and get my bag? It's in my room. Just bring the whole thing. Ask Eliini. She'll get it for you. And hurry, please!" 

Gracefully, the warrior rose and trotted from the room as Simon was returning. "Where's he going?" 

As he handed me the container with water and the cloths, I explained, "I remembered I had some allergy meds in my bag. When we were in Iquitos, I grabbed some aspirin, antihistamines, antacids, a can of bug spray and a couple of other things that I thought might come in handy." 

"Good thinking. I keep some stuff at my place. There might be something that will help. I'll go and get it." 

"Thanks, Simon." 

Turning back to Jim, I searched my brain, trying to remember the first aid instructions for allergic reactions. I knew that it could be fatal if the person's airway became blocked. I checked Jim's breathing and what I found didn't make me the least bit happy. It was definitely labored, letting me know that his throat was swelling. His lips also seemed a bit swollen when I examined them. I thought about what I would do if he actually stopped breathing. Could I perform a life-saving procedure that I had no idea how to execute? I'd seen a tracheotomy done on television, but I certainly didn't have a clue otherwise how to perform one. Would I try? With a sigh, I knew I would at least try before I'd let Jim die in front of me. 

Chewing on my lower lip, I thought back to the first aid course I'd taken as an undergraduate at Rainier. Elevate the feet. I rolled a blanket and tucked it under Jim's ankles. Wringing my hands, I ordered myself to not to panic. What else would help Jim? To keep busy and hoping that it might bring Jim some relief, I dipped a piece of cloth into the water and wiped Jim's face and neck before moving to his chest. Jim never responded the entire time, but at least he was still breathing. 

While I worked, I talked, something that I did way too much most of the time. I'm sure that, lately, there were plenty of times Jim wished he could go back to his relatively quiet life. Now his days were filled with me chattering away. I wondered if I got on his nerves, and I told myself that maybe I should ask him when he got well. But for now, talking helped relieve some of my nervousness. 

"Jim, man, this is not how I wanted to spend our time together! I want you to get better so that we can finally get to the good part of this relationship! Geez, Jim, I love you! Don't leave me! I haven't had the chance to tell you, but as soon as you're awake, they will be the first words out of my mouth. So come on..." I glanced out of the door once again. "Where the hell are they?" 

I felt my prayers were finally answered because the medicine man, Simon and Incacha all came back at almost the same time, and we discussed a plan of action. Uduma asked me about the pills and how they worked. I explained; he nodded and sorted through his bag, pulling out several herbs. He crushed them and dropped them into the container of hot water that he had asked be brought to him. Then he poured the mixture from one bowl to another until the herbs brewed and the mixture started to cool. After he tested the brew, he poured a small portion into a cup and handed it to me, instructing me to get as much into Jim as I could. He also explained that the tea would cause the stomach to empty so that any of the offending herb not digested already would be expelled. I nodded, carefully dribbling the tea down Jim's throat a drop at a time. It was slow going, but since he was unconscious, I didn't want to take the chance that the liquid would end up in his lungs. That was one complication he didn't need. 

I'd barely asked how long it would take for Jim to react when he started to retch. Turning him to his side, I held his head while the medicine man held a bowl. Nodding with satisfaction, the man then directed us to give Jim the crushed antihistamine pills, along with a couple of aspirin for the fever that he had mixed into water. It was probably pretty awful tasting, but I hoped that Jim was far enough under that he wouldn't react to the bitter medicine. 

Again, Simon held Jim's head while I administered the medicine slowly and carefully. While we did that, the medicine man directed Incacha to cover Jim's body with some kind of large leaves that he had dipped into another herbal mixture he'd made while we were busy giving Jim the first two doses of medicines. He explained to me that the leaves' oils would soak through Jim's pores and counteract any of the offending herb that still flowed in his bloodstream. He also told us that this method, while slow, was quite effective. After I had managed to get the crushed pills into Jim, the medicine man had me follow that with a tea he'd made that would soothe the body and allow Jim to sleep. 

By the time we'd finished, Jim seemed to be a little better. His breathing was not as raspy and his color had improved a bit. I bathed him again, relieved that his fever seemed to have dropped. The medicine man lifted Jim's eyelids and put a head to his chest. Then he looked at his gums and checked his skin. He raised his face and smiled at me, nodding happily. I almost cried I was so relieved. Jim would live. 

"Can we carry him back to the house?" I asked. "I want to help take care of him and I think he'd be more comfortable in his own room." 

Simon, Incacha and the medicine man talked among themselves for a few minutes. I was too tired and too worried about Jim to catch everything but it was finally decided that it would be all right for Jim to be moved. A litter was fetched and Jim was carefully carried back home to recuperate. 

\------------------------------ 

It was a warm overcast Sunday afternoon when I went for a walk in the rain. I loved when it rained in the jungle. The air grew thick and warm. It almost felt as if I could reach out and grab a handful of the air and rub it between my hands to squeeze out the moisture. I'd never really liked the rain before. Back in Cascade, when it rained, the temperature would almost always grow colder, even in the summer. And sometimes, in the winter, the rain would turn into snow, falling in thick, white flakes to coat the ground. I was always cold there. Now I was always warm. I liked being warm. Maybe I was a lizard in a former life. 

I wandered along, following the path that was clearly visible, beaten by many years and many feet. It snaked in and out of the jungle, sometimes leading to the water, other times twisting away, hiding the river from view. Ferns grew thick and dark under the taller bushes and trees, and the sweet smell of jungle flowers, mixed with the wet vegetation, was now a familiar, welcome scent.

I came to a small clearing where the ground was thick with ferns. I walked through the vegetation that grew waist high in places, holding out my hands, letting the fronds brush against my palms. I stopped and lifted my face toward the sky, letting the raindrops fall against my face. I licked my lips and spread my arms out wide, enjoying the sense of freedom. I smiled, feeling content and happy. 

For some reason I can't explain, I knew Jim was approaching, which made me smile even more. Guess he woke from the nap that he'd been taking in one of the hammocks on the veranda. I could picture him opening his eyes and looking for me. When I wasn't anywhere to be seen, he'd bump up his hearing to search me out. He found me easily, as always. 

"Hey, Chief." 

I opened my eyes, still smiling. "Hey, Jim. Thought you were sleeping." 

"I'm awake now." 

I nodded. "I can see that." 

"It's raining." 

"Yeah." 

"You're wet." 

I shrugged. "Feels good." 

With a smile, Jim said, "Wet looks good on you." He made it a point to rake his eyes down my body. The wet pants didn't hide a thing and I watched while the tip of his tongue licked his lips. He saw me watching him and with a shrug of his own, he added, "Crops look good, too. You worked hard," referring to the past week when we harvested the coffee pods, removed the seeds (or beans as most people call them) and set them to dry in their racks before roasting. 

I took half a step closer to him. "So did you." 

Jim moved closer. "I want you." 

I blinked rain from my eyes. "Me, too. Been wanting for you for a while now." 

"Sorry it's taken so long." 

"Hey, man. No problem. You were sick and then we were busy as hell. It took a lot to get those fields back into shape after that fever. Who knew peccaries were so destructive?" 

"Blair..." 

I knew I was rambling. Maybe I was just a bit nervous. Jim knew, I'm sure, because he gave me a sweet smile and tossed what he'd been carrying to the ground. The blue blanket dropped with a dull, wet thud, but other than a passing glance, I didn't pay much attention to it. I had other things on my mind at that moment. 

"It will get wet," I said unnecessarily, waving haphazardly toward the blanket. 

"So?" Jim leaned down slightly and without using his hands, he gently placed his lips against mine so that the only parts of our bodies that were touching were our mouths. It was damned erotic, I thought. 

I sighed against his lips. We'd kissed many times in the past months, but otherwise, that was as far as circumstances had allowed -- until now. I raised up to my toes so that I could deepen the kiss. Jim's arms clamped onto my upper arms and he pulled me closer so that our bodies touched from chest to groin. I know I shivered and pushed my pelvis forward into his. 

Dragging his mouth away from mine, Jim murmured, "God, Chief..." 

"Yeah," I agreed, sliding my hands behind Jim's head to bring him closer. Lips touching, I swiped the tip of my tongue along his warm skin. I heard him groan softly and open his mouth. Pleased at his responsiveness, I let my tongue slide into the warm cavern, touching the bumpy roof of his mouth with just the tip. I briefly wondered what it would take to overload Jim's senses, but right now wasn't the time for experiments. 

When Jim shuddered against me and his hands tightened, I pressed our mouths together harder, running my tongue along his gums and over his tongue. His hands kneaded the muscles of my upper arms and I felt his breath huffing harshly out of his nose and against the skin of my cheek. Moving back slightly, I blinked the rain from my eyes. 

Jim ran a quick hand across his forehead to wipe away the raindrops before he looked very intently at me and his eyes seemed to focus on my face. When his features went slack and he started to sway, I grabbed his wrists and jiggled gently. 

"Jim, man, not now!" 

Giving a shake of his head, he blinked slowly before his eyes focused clearly. "Sorry. The rain... The drops on the ends of your lashes... I could see the reflection of the trees in the raindrops." 

"Whoa. You went really deep there for a second. You okay?" 

"Yeah. I'm good." Jim glanced down at the bundle he'd tossed at his feet. 

Again, I did the rhetorical thing when I said, "You brought a blanket." 

Jim nodded, his hands falling away from me so that he could pick up the wet lump of material. He dug into the center of the lump and retrieved a small jar. I raised my eyebrow but he just grinned in response and thrust the blanket into my arms. I shook out the wet cloth and valiantly tried to spread it out on the ground. The ferns made lumps under the cloth and the folds refused to open under my now shaky fingers. I knew exactly what was in the jar that Jim held in his hand. The very thought made me shiver. 

Jim smiled at my bit of nervousness and after dropping the jar off to the side, he grabbed one side of the blanket while I took the other and together, we spread out the material. I knelt down in the middle of the square. Jim joined me, gathering the wet hem of my shirt into his hands and pulling it over my head. He tossed it aside where it landed out of sight deep in the ferns. Laughing, I returned the favor, yanking his shirt off and throwing it over my shoulder. Jim grinned -- until I leaned forward and licked his right nipple. Then he gasped and held the back of my head against his flesh. I suckled hard while his fingers grabbed handfuls of my wet hair. 

"Blair!" 

"Mmmm," I murmured, scraping my teeth gently along the flesh as I released it. Raising my face, I said softly, "You taste good, Jim." 

"God, Chief. What you do to me!" Jim whispered, taking my mouth with his. We kissed for many minutes, tasting, touching, licking. Jim explored my mouth while his fingers carded through my hair before cradling the back of my head in his palm. With his lips claiming mine, he managed to lower me to the blanket and lie alongside me, his hand splayed against my chest while we continued to kiss. Finally, his hand moved through my wet chest hair, slipping through it to rub a waiting nipple with the tip of his finger. When I jerked at the sensation, Jim pulled back to look down into my eyes. 

"Jim... Jim, man... Please..." 

Jim was very serious when he said, "Whatever you want, Blair." 

"Need you... really bad." 

Chuckling, Jim shook his head. "And you have a college degree?" he asked with a snicker. "How badly?" His eyes raked down my body to my wet pants. The thin cotton outlined my parts in vivid relief. With a single finger, he ran a finger down the length of my erection. I cried out, arching into his touch. "That bad, huh?" 

"You are an asshole," I groused when the finger moved away. 

"I know." Wrapping his arm around the back of my neck, Jim again ravaged my mouth but this time, he added a bit more. His fingers danced along my erection, the cotton barely a barrier to the sensations. I know I was whimpering when his hand covered my penis. With his open palm, he stroked the length before he gently squeezed. Again, I gasped, my mind reeling from sensation. When the fingers started to lightly stroke my balls, I knew I was going to come right then and there before the first act even got underway. 

I put a hand against Jim's chest and pushed him away. "For God's sake, Ellison!" I growled. "Take these damned pants off me now! Get rid of yours too. I want to see you!" 

Grinning, Jim tugged on the drawstring of my pants. Of course, since the string was now wet, it refused to untie. Jim growled and lowered his face. I had no idea what he was going to do until he latched his teeth on the string and yanked. After a few good tugs, and with the aid of one of his hands, the tie finally cooperated and released its hold. With a triumphant grin, Jim rose to his knees. When I lifted my hips, he had to peel the wet pants off that now insisted on clinging to my body. 

The air felt almost cool for a brief moment before the gentle rain hit my overheated skin. It tickled as it fell, and I let out a chuckle. Jim's hands caressed my thighs and knees before he spread my legs to plant himself between them. Before I had a chance to remind him that he was supposed to lose his own pants, he leaned forward and licked my dick. I know I shouted with surprise and pleasure, completely forgetting about Jim's pants. 

"Jim!" I cried as he sucked the head into his mouth. "God, Jim!" I shouted when he tickled the slit with his tongue. "Oh!" I yelped when he held whatever he didn't suck into his mouth in his strong hand. "Shit!" I yelled when his other hand joined the fun and he rolled my testicles in his fingers. And just when I knew I was going to come. Exactly when I felt my body gather for the big finale, everything stopped. 

I pried open my wet eyelids and looked at my snickering lover. Jim leaned back on his calves, his own erection, thick and full, pushing against the wet material of his pants. He waited until my eyes met his before he smiled sweetly at me. 

I let out a growl of frustration and raised myself to my elbows. "Jim, for God's sake, please!" My erection was so hard, I ached. Jim had the audacity to look at me and grin. I can only describe that smart-assed grin as damned satisfied. Very, very satisfied at what he was doing to me. And at how I was responding. "I'm going to kill you." 

Jim just smiled. "What do you want?" 

"You... Please, Jim..." 

"We never talked about -- all of this." Then he actually ran his own fingers down his cock, sighing with pleasure. Just to torment me. 

"I love you, asshole! Nothing to talk about. Now you either make love to me in about two seconds, or you're going to be taking care of that," I pointed to his crotch, "yourself." 

With a laugh, Jim leaned forward. He planted a hand on either side of my head and leaned down. I raised my head until our mouths met. With a contented moan, I wrapped my legs around his waist and lifted my hips. While we kissed, I used a hand to try to get to his erection. The button on his pants refused to budge and the zipper, seemingly stuck closed, denied me access. Frustrated, I palmed the cloth-covered erection and rubbed hard. Now it was Jim's turn to gasp against my mouth. I caressed him for several seconds until he yanked his mouth away from mine and buried his face in my neck. His tongue laved the skin under his mouth before he sucked on it. I felt the passion mark rising to the surface. I stroked harder. Jim sucked harder. I bucked upward, searching, searching... Blindly maneuvering, I shoved my erection against his, snickering when he moaned. I jerked my hips, rubbing our erections together. 

"Blair!" Jim cried, levering himself up on his hands. He hovered over me, his hair wet with the rain dripping down his face and off the end of his nose. The drops hit me in the face, making me laugh. I licked away the water while my hand kneaded his flesh through the material. "Get rid of the pants, Jim," I ordered softly, dropping my legs to the blanket. 

Jim nodded, rising to his knees. His fingers fumbled as he unbuttoned and unzipped. He pushed the wet cloth down, wiggling as it stuck to his skin. When he managed to get the pants as far as his bent legs, I sat up and cupped his now-exposed heavy sac in my palm. I raised my face and closed my eyes. Jim took the hint and leaned down, kissing me passionately. I explored the thick erection with one hand and the balls with the other while Jim kissed the living daylights out of me. I finally had to pull away to breath. Harshly panting, we stared at each other for a good minute before I gave him a slight nod. He responded with one of his own. He rose to his feet, shakily, I noted with glee, and got rid of the pants. Damn, but Jim has a fantastic body. Honed from hard work and good genes. I watched, practically drooling, while he turned several times before he gave a small "ah ha!" full of satisfaction and bent down. I enjoyed the view until he rose and with a triumphant grin, held up the small green jar. 

All I could do was nod, figuring that it was what I thought it was when I'd first seen it. Jim opened the jar and dipped his fingers into it, coming out with a thick coating of a light green oily substance. He started rubbing the lubricant on his own penis, but his mouth dropped and his eyes started to glaze. I knew he was zoning on touch, so I rose and took the jar from his hand. Covering my palm with the oil, I rubbed Jim's erection. He jerked, his eyes quickly focusing. From that day forward, the smell of balsam always turned me on.

"God, Jim, you're so beautiful," I whispered. 

Jim shuddered, thrusting into my hand. His own oily hand, ripe with the strong fragrance of balsam, reached for me. Unmindful of the lube, he stroked my wet hair before running a finger along my cheek, spreading the oil around wherever he touched. I hadn't shaved that day and the stubble must have had an erotic reaction because he inhaled sharply and after rubbing a thumb along my jaw, pulled away from my caresses. 

"Chief... Wait..." 

"Sorry." 

"No... I just don't want to... You know, too soon. Want to... in you. Okay?" 

I smiled, laying back down. I put my hands under my knees and lifted my legs, blatantly sending the invitation. "Jim, please..." 

Jim nodded, his eyes bright. I figured it was the rainwater dripping down his forehead and into his eyes that made it look like he was so happy that a few tears had leaked out. I laughed, knowing I must be in an especially silly mood to ever think that Jim would cry over something as ridiculous as our first time making love. Jim never cried, especially over something like that. He quickly swiped a hand over his eyes, (smearing himself with even more oil) then his gaze met mine and he lowered himself to me. I guided his cock to my body and after huffing out a breath, I smiled at him, trying to hide my residual nervousness. He didn't smile in return. In fact, he was so serious, my own anxiety vanished and I almost giggled. I said almost because before the sound could bubble up, Jim pushed. He didn't push hard or fast, but the balsam oil was slick and before I could gasp, he slipped in, and he didn't pause until his pelvis was pressed against my ass. 

I must have been holding my breath because Jim whispered, "Breathe, Chief," while his hand gently touched my face. (Yeah, more lube there also.)

I huffed out the breath I'd been holding. "Jim!" 

"Blair," Jim said, lowering his upper body until his face was pressed against the side of my face. "God, Blair." 

I loved the way Jim said my name. He kind of breathed it out, passionately. It gave me goose bumps. I hope he said it a lot more while we were making love. It was a nice thought, but at the time, I had other, more important things on my mind. "Move," I ordered. 

Jim grunted a response. He raised himself up to his hands and pushed his hips forward. I did gasp that time and when he started a slow, deep rhythm, I shuddered under him. Words seemed impossible. I probably sounded pretty stupid when all I could manage was things like, "Oh!", "There!", "Jim!", and "Uhhh!"

My eyes kept drifting shut as Jim thrust into me. I liked just feeling what he was doing to me. Concentrating this way wasn't usual for me. I like using all of my senses, so this was definitely something different. Jim's cock slipping in and out, tingling my nerves, filling me, stretching me, were strange sensations, erotic and pleasurable. When he pulled almost all the way out of my body, I shifted, not realizing what I had done until Jim thrust in again and hit my prostate. That elicited a howl from me, let me tell you. He moved in and out a few more times, before I felt his rhythm change from relatively smooth, controlled motions into wild, uncontrolled thrusts. That's when I knew he was skirting the edge of orgasm. That and the fact that he was chanting my name on each push. 

I felt myself running along that edge with Jim, and for some reason, I thought it would be cool to come together. A little silly, but I figure I was entitled, since I'd waited so long to get to this point. And a fine point it was. Jim let out a deep grunt and shuddered. My eyes flew open to gaze into his face. He looked like what I could only call ecstatic. His eyes were tightly closed while his mouth hung open. His face was flushed and his body trembled over me. I swear I could feel his penis swell even more inside me. He let out a soul-deep moan and that was when I felt it -- his cock pulsed and he filled me with his seed. Gasping, I tugged on my own erection, knowing that it wouldn't take much to make me fall. Somehow Jim managed to move. One jerky thrust was followed by another, both of which nailed my prostate. That was all it took -- I came all over myself in a rush. 

Jim just plain collapsed. Right on top of me. I know I let out an "oomph" as the air was squeezed from my body. Jim was dead weight, but I'm pretty wiry. I wiggled a bit, sucking in a quick breath when Jim's penis slid out. It was a damned strange sensation, but I liked it. I managed to roll Jim to his side. His eyes were closed; he was out cold. I grinned. I'd never, in all of my encounters with a lover, had one who had passed out before. I gave a quick thought to the idea that a Sentinel must be a hell of a lot more susceptible to sensations during lovemaking then the normal male (or female) animal. But I'd think about that later. Right now I had an unconscious lover (with a satisfied grin on his face, I might add) lying next to me. I guessed I'd better do something about that. 

"Well, duh, Blair," I muttered to myself, patting Jim's cheek. "Hey, Jim. Come on. Open those baby blues." 

Jim gave a small groan and his eyes fluttered. Finally, they opened and focused.   
"Wow." 

I laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment." 

Jim grinned. I tossed a handful of wet hair over my shoulder before I leaned forward, my lips meeting his. I kissed him slowly, but fully. My hand rested against his firm chest, and I let my palm slide over his wet, slick skin. Of course, we'd managed to get the balsam oil every place imaginable. Snickering into the kiss, when I finally released Jim's mouth, he asked, "What?" 

"What?" I echoed. 

"You -- laughed. Was that a good laugh or a disgusted laugh?" 

Chuckling, I patted Jim's cheek and said, "Oh, definitely a good laugh." Jim smiled. I returned it, asking, "Hey, want to play dress up?" 

"Dress up?" 

"Yeah," I said with a grin. "Me, Tarzan. You, Jane." 

"Hang on. Why are you Tarzan?" 

"Because it was my idea." Jim glared, his eyes twinkling. I shrugged. "Okay. Okay. We can take turns if you want." 

Jim considered that for a moment before he asked, "Will you kidnap me and take me to your jungle tree house and ravage me?" 

"Most definitely." 

"Call me Jane, ape-man. Where's Cheetah?" 

I laughed. "Love you, man." 

"Me, too, Chief." 

\---------------------------------

I wake to the bright sunlight flitting around the edges of the curtains that Eliini made for the windows in our room. The dark rich colors of navy, red and deep green that she chose keep out the glare, but the sun still manages to make its presence known. I roll to my side and prop my head on my hand. Jim sleeps next to me, looking so vulnerable. He's a strong warrior, brave and courageous. He uses his Sentinel gifts for the good of the tribe. He protects me year after year. He loves me and cares for me. 

Jim's control of his heightened senses has improved over time, but still, sometimes they have a will of their own. I often wonder just how he copes, and I know I'd never have persevered as well as he has. He's told me many times that I keep him sane. It makes me feel good knowing that I have some small part in his success as a Sentinel, as a warrior, and as my partner. I loved Jim from almost the first moment I saw him, and as time passes, that love only grows. I am well blessed and when I think about it, I could almost forgive my kidnappers for bringing me to Jim. Almost, but not quite. The "Jim" part is great; the kidnapping part sucked big time. 

I retrieve my pen and paper from the floor where I'd dropped them last night, and open the cloth-covered journal to a blank page. I write for a good while until I hear sounds coming from the kitchen. I hear the murmur of voices: Simon talking softly to his wife, and the voices of their now-teenaged children. They are my family. I grin, returning to my endeavors. Several more pages fall under my pen before Jim stirs. 

Before he wakes fully, I lean down and whisper into his ear, ""It's Sunday. Go back to sleep." 

Jim's face breaks into a grin. "Chief." 

"Right here, lover." 

Jim blinks slowly before he rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Morning." 

"Morning," I answer, leaning over my papers and kissing Jim's forehead before moving to his eyelids and the tip of his nose. A light kiss on his lips and I retreat, watching his face light up with pleasure. 

"Mmmm, nice." 

Chuckling, I pick up my pen and start to write once again. Jim lays and watchs me for a while before I stretch my writing arm over my head, flexing my fingers. "I'm getting hungry." 

"Yeah, me too." 

"I have to pee." 

"Yeah, me too." 

"Want to go out on the river for a while?" 

Jim's face lights up. "To the tree house?" 

I grin. "Where else?" 

"God, I love the jungle." 

Laughing, I say, "Me, too, Jane. Me, too." 

\-----------------------------------------


End file.
